Avenger
by Marekk Faerune
Summary: Faerune never had luck going for him. But he will need all the luck in the world to take on a challenge that he is unable to grasp.
1. Faerune's Tale

This first chapter was originally the first fourteen chapters of my story posted on Everlore, Avenger. I have consolidated those tiny chapters into one large one. Enjoy.

* * *

As I write this, my enemy draws near. I believe these are to be my last days in this earthly plane. I write tonight in hope that I will fulfill my destiny.

My name is Faerune Justian, heir to the elfish throne. I was born under the house of Justian in the land of West Karana. My mother, Sophia Justian, died at my birth, while my father was off hunting for gnolls.

So I was left alone, dying in our small cottage. As I was about to breathe my last breath, a golden light washed over my body. It was the hand of Mithaniel Marr. My life was being restored at the mercy of that great god. I was protected, nurtured, and taught for fifteen years.

On the first full moon of the year, the light left with the words, "Go, noble paladin, not to the west, but to the east. Seek out not a friend, but the enemy."

When I could no longer see the light, I appeared amongst the ashes of my home. I later learned that it was razed by a pack of traveling gnolls looking for my father. Buried under the ash, I found some meager rations of food and water, along with my father's trusty blade, the Avenger.

The world ahead is unknown to me, but with Marr on my side, I need not fear.

* * *

I was struck with vigor as I set off to the east. Crossing the seemingly endless West Karana, I decided I should cross the Northern Karana and head for Rivervale, the halfling city. I had heard that it was a fairly neutral town, so I hoped that could lead me to my enemy's home.

Just before I reached the human outpost of High Keep, I was ambushed. It was the middle of the night, and I was sound asleep in a local tavern when I awoke to the sound of a corpse hitting the floor. I went to draw my sword when I was crushed in the back of my skull.

I awoke the next morning on a ship, heading for Marr knows where. I was surrounded by the foulest of beasts. They were green, covered in scales; a long, winding tail was protruding from their backs. Their speech was slurred; their language native.

I knew there was nothing I could do to escape, so I rose to try and reason with them. I said, "Greetings…I am…Faerune…Justian…" I was unable to finish my introduction since several blades were at my throat.

I heard one of them whisper, " Thisss sssoft ssskin ssspeaksss common. He might have overheard our plansss. Dissspossse of him!"

As they were about to devour me alive, I shouted "Wait! What have I done to deserve a death so cruel? Let the ocean be my grave, not the pits of your stomachs!"

So these lizard men, these Iksar as I later found out, made me walk the plank. I was able to swim to a small island. Using my sword, I made a raft sufficient enough for travel. After four grueling months of drifting, I ended up on the barren coast of the Desert of Ro. Dehydrated, I collapsed on the shore and was picked up by a group of traveling minstrels. They agreed to care for me until we reached Freeport, then I would be on my own.

* * *

Freeport is a busy city. All the noise, all the excitement, it can really get to your head fast. I was walking to the Temple of Marr, the Freeport Paladin headquarters, when merchants surrounded me. They all wanted to sell me something: food, armor, someone even wanted to sell me something called Fuzzlecutter Formula 5000. I kept trying to tell them that I wasn't interested, but they refused to leave.

Finally, some North Freeport guards broke up the commotion. One of them nudged me with his elbow, "You gotta use force for some of these buffoons. May I ask your name, son? Are you from around here?" I told them who I was and why I had come here.

"Paladin, aye? This one ain't lyin'," the other guard exclaimed. "I can see Marr in his eyes. Faded, but there waiting to be awoken."

"Right this way, young chap!" a hermit-like man told me. "Me name iz Colrayne Silvanis, leader of the paladin's of Marr. Ah, yes, I see it, too. This one musta been truly impacted by the good lord. He'll make a fine paladin. But first you'll need some training, aye? Dun want ya goin' out without some experience in battle, aye…aye?"

"Yes, sir," I replied hesitantly. His demeanor was odd, but nonetheless, I could tell this…Colrayne knew what he was doing.

He brought me to the temple and showed me to my room. It wasn't much, but completely better than the raft.

That nigh I couldn't sleep. I wished that tomorrow would come sooner so I could begin my training. I stepped out of my room and onto the balcony to get some fresh air when I heard chatter coming from behind the temple.

It was another new recruit, Abram I believe he was called. He seemed quiet during our studies, almost worried, almost anxious. It looked like he was talking to the wall. I couldn't decipher his words.

He then removed his arm plate and reached for the wall. I was about to call out to him, thinking he might be sleep walking, when a tattoo glowed on his arm. It bore a crest. I had never seen it before so I assumed it was his family crest.

Then something shocking happened. The wall began to swirl, mold and produce an arm. I heard a raspy voice in the wind. All I was able to truly here was, "…done…brother…end…oppression…soon…"

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew across the balcony and a vase fell from its pedestal and broke on the floor. Then strands of blue mana surrounded my body.

* * *

The training was fairly easy at first, but as time went on, it became much tougher to keep up with the rest of pack.

I could see that Abram was doing very well, but he still seemed nervous. He couldn't keep steady during archery. As a matter of fact, he almost hit one of our masters in the ear.

I was excellent when it came to fencing. I even beat Colrayne.

About mid-afternoon, I was able to start learning my spells. Boy, was that a headache. But when I spoke the words correctly, and that mana shot from my fingers, I was on top of the world.

Night came fast, and I was dead tired. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed.

I had a dream. I was in a grassy plain. Fire leapt from every direction. A huge tornado of fire appeared in the distance. As it got closer, I felt the hairs on my neck singe from the unbearable heat. Out of the blazing inferno stepped a flaming figure. It was the Burning Prince, Solusek Ro. He spoke, "Wake up, young paladin. Your time to die is not my hands!"

With those words, I quickly rose from my slumber. My room was engulfed in flames. Outside my window, I could see the Freeport Militia, along with Abram, dousing our temple with oil. "Fall in the fire's of hell, heathens!" they chanted, "You will fall at the hand of Sir Lucan D'Lere!"

I knew that I must act fast if I were to save anyone. I immediately headed for Colrayne's room. I opened the door and smothered with smoke. I managed to find his body after a few moments. He was unconscious and not breathing.

I tried to exit back through the door, but the flames were too high. The only other exit was the window, so I reared back and dashed towards it. I dove head first, Colrayne's body at my chest, and crashed through the glass. I hit the ground with a ton of force, but was able to keep my stride.

I made my way into the tunnels behind the temple. I placed Colrayne on the floor and fainted from exhaustion.

I awoke next morning to the cries of women. Hundred of wives were wailing at the loss of their husbands.

As I appeared out of the shadows, a hush came over the crowd. They all seemed to stared at me. Their ominous eyes felt like the world on my shoulders, crushing me down into the red earth.

No one dared to speak until a peasant rose from the back. "Traitor!" he shouted. "Heathen!" he claimed. "It was his betrayal that caused the devastation you see today. It was because of him that Colrayne Silvanis is dead! Kill him! He does not deserve the mercy of the court!"

The crowd was driven mad by this man's speech. I was immersed by the locals and beaten until an inch of death when a voice called out from a noble. It was the next in line to become the head of paladin nobility. His name was Abraham Marrlan, or Abram for short.

"Please, disperse, you angry mob! This man does not deserve death! He deserves worse! Faerune Justian! I hereby exile you from the city of Freeport! Your name will be forgotten; you will only be known as a ronin, warrior wanderer who betrayed his land! And last, you will no longer be worthy of calling our beloved god of Valor, Mithaniel Marr, your lord! You have one day to gather your possessions. Meet us at the southern exit tomorrow at noon. I dare you to be late!"

Before I was able to defend myself, he had already rode out of my sight. So I was left to gather my sword, my few rations left, and my thoughts. This betrayal happened so soon in my life, all I could think of was revenge. Yet, with those thoughts, I could feel Marr's hold weaken ever so slightly.

Noon the next day, I saw Abram dressed in the ceremonial induction armor. His promotion was earlier this morning. As I passed by, I could see a fire burning in his eyes. The fire of change, within Freeport and within me, was coming.

I began my journey of shame in the barren Desert of Ro, the same place I was picked up only one month ago. I knew that staying in this place would only mean starvation, dehydration, and death.

I went through a tunnel in the mountains to reach the Eastern Commanlands. I had to hide in the sandy area due to the fact that Freeport Militia was strewn about the grassy area. I also knew that I couldn't go to any respectable establishments while my name was still frowned upon. So High keep seemed to be the best place to go.

I spent the night just outside of the Kithcor Woods, since the undead don't take too kindly of travelers.

Next morn, I set off to High Hold Pass. Just as I was about to enter my new home, the guards nearby besieged me. "Wait just a moment young traveler. We had heard that a traitor of Marr is afoot. Tell us your name."

I had to think quickly. "Faerune…Silvanis." That lie caused Marr's grip to further loosen on my heart.

"Silvanis…oh, Silvanis! I'm sorry, sir, right this way. What brings you to High Hold? We rarely get anyone of your prestige 'round here."

"Diplomatic duties in Halas. Those barbarian bastards have been giving us the shaft on the winter wolf pelts."

"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay." The guard returned to his post.

"Thank you." I replied.

I slept at the same tavern that I was abducted from before. This time though, a greater atrocity occurred.

I dreamt a dream that night. I was walking through the most beautiful garden. The ground was covered in gold. I looked down at my feet and saw that they were slowly sinking into the ground. I struggled to stay on top of the earth, but it seemed for every inch closer to the top I got, I would drop a foot to the bottom. The earth turned to mud and covered my body. I began falling in an endless pit. The air around me was blacker than black. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. I finally landed in the heat of a bloody battle. I was surrounded by Iksar and another unknown beast. I turned to the left in time to see an unknown archer notching an arrow onto his bow. He pulled the string back, cried out in a deafening screech, and released the arrow.

I awoke again in another cold sweat.

I was lucky. A blizzard had blown through over night and cut off all paths to and from Halas. That allowed my lie to hold up and a reason to stay in High Keep. I got up from my sleep and staggered downstairs.

The barkeep called out to me, "Eh, Faerune, you seem nervous. Is there anything wrong?"

"Matter of fact, yes," I replied. "I heard a terrible screech last night. You know anything 'bout that?

"Crazy goblins, probably trying to escape from their mine."

The goblins gave me an idea. Revenge was still on my mind, but I would need some mercenaries to stand a chance. Goblins aren't strong or smart enough to fight a quick in-and-out objective battle, but perhaps they could lead me to stronger mercenaries.

At night, I snuck out of my room and down into the mining tunnels. I placed a dagger on the goblin kings throat and whispered into his ear, "Wake up, you pawn."

He awoke with a startle, and shouted orders to his royal guards in goblin speech. "Do you speak common?" I asked when he realized that I had the advantage.

"Yes, human," he replied. "All creature of Brell speak common. What in the world do you want?"

"Tell me where I can find mercenaries!" I demanded.

"Dakor docks, in the Overthere, on the lost continent of Kunark." He nervously replied. "Many evilly aligned races have taken hold there."

"Thank you." I said. Then I nonchalantly slit his throat. The guards lunged at me, but I quaffed an invisibility potion and escaped.

I did not know of the ship, the Bloated Belly, so I believed the only way to reach these Dakor docks was by the Maiden's Voyage. So I used the tunnels underneath Freeport to reach my ship to Faydwer.

After I boarded, I met up with a few other vagabonds. We drank and fished off the side of the boat for a while.

A High Elf walked up to me. "Sir, may I ask where are you going?"

"Fironia Vie," I replied. "I hear the big game hunting is exquisite." She was a looker, so I decided to tell her my name.

"Oh Tunare! It's a Silvanis! Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"I was trying to be modest. The years away from Faydwer have not been to kind to my memory. When we reach the docks, can you lead me to Felwithe?" She was honored.

We reached the docks around two o'clock the next day. The walk was pleasant. The woman and I talked about the city. She told me that Fironia Vie herself would be in town for my arrival.

As we got closer to the city, I could see four massive white columns reaching for the sky, closing in on a central point. The elf told me that when the moon, Luclin, aligns with the central point, that people can be transported to its surface.

I entered the city and was immersed in its glory. Everyone seemed content, everyone was happy. It began to sicken me.

A guard stopped my progress. "Sir, the council wishes to see you."

The council was a group of four elfin lords: one magician, one enchanter, one wizard, and a paladin. They asked how could a human bear the name of Silvanis.

"Though my father was a wise man, he was unable to keep his hands off the Freeport night life," I replied. I heard a murmur. They told me if I were to have the throne that I must prove myself.

"A Teir'dal presence has been spotted on the continent. If you wish to become king, defeat this outpost of evil."

I set off for Fironia Vie in spring. The trip was simple enough. Board at the coast, ferry to the Maiden's Voyage.

The massive sails on this behemoth were unveiled before my eyes, and we took off with the jet stream wind. I could see all sorts of fish and beasts of the sea riding our current.

The sails allowed what should have been a weeklong trip to take only a day. We arrived at the docks about noon. I didn't plan on staying in the Vie for long, yet as soon as I set foot off the ship, I was greeted by the head of the paladin estate. "Silvanis, greetings! How was Antonica?"

"Bland," I replied, "nothing like the beauty of Faydwer."

"Would you like me to show you around?" he asked.

I declined. "Nay, I came here for the big game hunting. Which way to the Dreadlands?" He pointed to the west. I thanked him and was on my way.

At midnight, I found the tunnel to the Lands. A guard was positioned nearby. He told me that the undead Iksar king, Venril Sathir, was building an undead army. He wouldn't allow me to pass.

I shrugged and turned back. I took forty paces, climbed a nearby tree, notched an arrow, and fired.

My aim was true! It hit the guard in the bare spot between his helm and his breastplate. He was bleeding profusely, but still alive, as I walked by. I dragged him towards the wall and strangled him with a drachnid spider web.

After he died, I moved forward, across the Dreadlands, across the Frontier Mountains, and across the Sarnak infested Overthere.

I was walking along the wall when I caught a figure in the corner of my eye. I was shocked. It was straight from my dream. The unknown beasts were Sarnak!

After the revelation I experienced, I saw the walls of the docks appear out of the fog. I quaffed another invisibility potion and snuck past its defenses.

I searched throughout the houses and finally found one with a host of evil persons: Ogre, Dark Elf, rogue Humans, Paniellian Erudites, Trolls, and a lone Iksar.

I stepped into the middle of the room and unveiled myself. Each of the persons drew their weapons. "Halt!" I pronounced. "I am Faerune Justian, destroyer of the Temple of Marr in Freeport! I have come here to tell you of grave news. An elfish army, led by me, will come at night to this establishment exactly two fortnights from now. They are expecting to catch you all off guard, but I am here to help you catch them!"

We set off from the Oasis of Marr at dawn. Ironic it seems that I set off to do my foulest deed yet on the coast of my former deity.

It was dusk before we reached Kunark's coast. The massive ships we used to travel across the Timorous Deep would be trapped by the many sand barges along the coast, so we sectioned off into smaller boats. Each crew consisted of an officer and six men. More than four hundred boats were on the seas that night.

I told the crew I was governing to turn to the left, away from the main group. They were nervous but followed my orders. Insubordination is considered treason in the elfish arm, which is punishable by exile.

As they turned back towards the bank, well away from the coming doom, we heard a scream.

The large clay golems that normally guarded the outside walls emerged from the watery depths, creating a tsunami. More than half the fleet were capsized, destroyed, or sunk in that single push.

The good elves, seeing that they had lost their initiative, turned back from the main ships. They saw a horrific sight. Several drow were standing atop the wooden beasts with torches in hand. In the black night, all you could see of them saw the torches, their eyes, and the evil grin fixed on their faces. With a loud cry, the Teir'dal lit the sails of the ship and jumped into the water.

Panic overcame the elfish army, and it became mob rule. Bloodshed was everywhere as the Wood and High Elves fought each other for the shore. Many drowned before even seeing dry land; others who had already been wounded we devoured by patrolling sharks. The few to make it to shore were cut down by evil.

My crew looked in horror. "How did they know?" one asked. "How did they know our every move, our every plan? How did they know!?"

I looked towards the ground, removed my helmet, and looked at the crew. I began to chuckle, but it quickly escalated to an uncontrollable laughter. "Because I told them!" I replied.

I unsheathed my sword and decapitated a crewman. One reached for his sword but I quickly struck him down. Several tried to jump ship, but I picked off most of them with my bow.

One lone soldier was left cowering in the corner. I took out my final arrow, notched it on the bowstring, and placed it on his forehead. "Why did you betray us?" he shakily asked.

I answer in one word. "Revenge." I released the arrow and heard the crack of his skull. Victory!

I rowed the boat to shore. The bodies of my enemies were strewn about the ground. Even in the night, I could see the bold red color of blood covering the ground.

I walked towards the docks expecting to here cheers of victory, but war still raged on. I unsheathed my Avenger, no, my Shadowy Avenger, expecting the worst. As if someone had read my mind, the worst came.

The lone Iksar had tipped off his commander-in-chief of our plan, most importantly that the clay golems would not be on their normal posts.

They caught us with our pants down. It wasn't a battle; it was a slaughter.

I rushed in to help, but it was hopeless. The Iksar had already mutilated our necromancers and magicians who controlled the various minions guarding our camps.

Few prisoners were taken. I was lucky enough to be one of them. Except, luck, isn't the right word. I was more cursed enough to be one of them. For nine grueling months, I worked the fields and mines of Kunark, unable to gain my freedom.

I had heard that some of the drow were planning on revolting against their slave masters. Some of the field workers were also called to be servants in the house of the emperor. Their plan was to unfold at dinnertime. After his meal, he asks for a glass of wine. Naturally, he would have a servant test some of the wine. The tester, most likely a slave Teir'dal, would take a sip and spit in a small packet of poison. The emperor would drink the wine, swallow the package, and die soon afterward. When the bell strikes twelve, the slaves would rise up against their masters during the confusion.

I had seen the Iksar in battle and knew that they would be much more powerful allies than these filthy Dark Elves. I tipped off the Iksar to their plan.

They knew exactly what to do. They set up more guards at the mining camps and chose an Iksar to be the tester. Before the slave servant could warn the others, the clock had already struck twelve. The slaves attacked and were almost immediately put down.

I was freed for saving the emperor's life.

I left Cabilis for about a month to figure out my plan, and then returned to the Iksar capital. I knew to gain their trust I would have to enlist into their army.

They are brutal bastards. The first mission they gave my platoon was to take care of the Iksar fortress in the Lake of Ill Omen. The Recruits were easy enough. We didn't suffer any causalities.

We had swiftly reached the throne room. Sarnak were everywhere. A massive wooden table was meticulously placed in the center of the room. It was covered from end to end with festive foods. The emperor sat on his throne with two ceremonial guards by his side.

Everyone in the chamber halted what he or she was doing when we appeared. They withdrew all sorts of weapons: swords, axes, daggers, and hammers, bows of all shapes and sizes, and enormous spears. We formed our phalanx expecting a head on charge, but to my astonishment, the enemy dispersed.

We slowly crept into the chamber to see where they had gone. Two of my Iksar brethren fell into a pit trap in front of us. We could hear their screams of agony as they were impaled on the spikes below. Arrows were fired from small slits in the wall, killing two more.

One of the dead was our commanding officer. I took up his colors and ordered our pike men to form a border our casters and archers. Soon a wall of tower shields was surrounding us as we regrouped.

Every few seconds, a Sarnak would appear and try and catch us off guard. The shield would barely spread apart and an arrow would emerge from the slit, killing the menace.

It didn't take the Sarnak long to figure out our strategy. For three hours, we didn't see a soul. One of the pike men lowered his shield and asked, "Where have thessse beassstsss gone?"

Before I could warn him, a dagger flew from the shadows and dug into his temple. He was stone dead before he hit the floor. In his death, a huge gap was made in the defense. The Sarnak took advantage of this weakness and attack on all sides.

I tried to get the pike men to compensate for the gap, but they were lightning fast. I ordered our necromancers and magicians to create their pets. Behind me, the Sarnak had taken out two of our archers.

I unsheathed my sword and, with a deafening battle cry, charged forward. I brought my Shadowy Avenger down upon the brow of a Sarnak conscript. I deflected a blow from the right with my shield and sliced open an enemy to my left. My platoon saw my strength and rebuilt theirs, charging into the fray.

A screaming Sarnak was relentlessly attacking me, beating me into a corner. I blocked a few of his barrages with my shield, but he knocked it clean out of my hands.

I closed my eyes and was ready for the mortal blow, but I heard a crack against the wall. One of my pike men had impaled the Sarnak into the wall.

I notched an arrow and fired it at one of their adherents. He released his spell, diseasing over half my men, then died from the impact of my shot. Several of my men dropped to the floor, and began to convulse. I had to ignore them.

I rushed into another dining hall. I turned to the left in time to see a Sarnak archer notching an arrow onto his bow. He pulled the string back, cried out in a deafening screech, and released the arrow.

Death was coming. It came just as in my dream, in the form an arrow. Then, a flash of light, a dagger flew across the room, slicing the arrow from its guidance feathers. Without them, the arrow took a nosedive, clanging against the stone floor.

Before I could react, a sharp blow was delivered to my head. I was unconscious again, just as I was in my first meeting with the Iksar.

I awoke next to a warm campfire. A man dressed in black was roasting a cockatrice over the open flame.

I stood up and began to yell, "Why did you remove me from battle!?"

He answered without taking his eyes off the fire. "You and your men were losing. If I hadn't saved you, those Sarnak would be feasting on your entrails right now."

"I didn't need to be saved! I would rather die with a blade in my hand next to my brethren than flee like a faithless coward!"

"They are not your brethren, Faerune Justian!"

I was shocked; he knew my true name. "Who are you?" I unsheathed a dagger and placed it on his neck. "Tell me," I demanded, "or I swear to Thule, I'll slit your throat!"

The man grabbed the dagger and snapped the blade clean off. He grinded the blade in his hand, turning it into dust. He opened his palm, and the dust fell out like thousands of pieces of glitter. "In time, you will learn who I am. I saved you today, because you still have a purpose. It was not a coincidence that I was there. Your place in history is not a lowly sergeant in a lizard army." He sighed and removed the bird from the rotisserie. "I have said too much already. Rest, for tomorrow, we travel east."

I appeared in a moonlit grotto, stars glistening in the sky. I was following my captor through a clump of trees. I could hear the wind whistling through the leaves, as if they were calling me. "Faerune!" I jumped. "Wait right here!" my captor ordered. "I sense a dragon afoot!" He then took his black cloak and covered his body. He vanished into thin air.

I waited for his call, but it never came. Then a massive dragon appeared before me. I reached for my sword, and set up for battle. But as soon as I fully gripped the sword, it turned to dust.

The dragon lowered its head. I prepared my last rites. But to my astonishment, it spoke. "Hail, Faerune, Bringer of Doom. I am the poison dragon Trakanon. Do not be afraid, you are in no danger. You are the child of Marr, are you not?"

I was confused. "My mother died during labor, and I never knew my father."

The dragon bellowed, "Oh, you don't know of your noble birth. Your mother died because she was impregnated by the god, Mithaniel Marr. You are his only son. But it is not you which has a prophecy; it is not you that will bring the doom.

The sword you were carrying is a noble sword as well. You knew from the moment you held it that this sword was different."

"Then why did you destroy it?" I asked.

"Did I?" he replied. "Look at your sheath."

I kept one eye on the dragon as I felt for my scabbard. My sword had returned. I took it out and re-gripped it. The blade became a pale blue. It seemed to be coated in something. I removed my glove to feel the blade, when it disintegrated again. "Why is this happening? Is this your doing, Trakanon?" I shouted.

"Wait for it. Patience is a virtue," he replied.

I sighed and looked down at my handle. It seemed different. The once black opals that covered the handle were now fire emeralds. My hands began to radiate with heat, increasing every few seconds.

It was almost too hot to handle when the heat dissipated. A massive column of flame erupted from where my blade used to be.

Trakanon bellowed, "Your Avenger was never meant to be wield by a man of evil. Now that the evil is fading, you can use its true strength. It has been birthed into its true state. Paladin! You are now holding the Fiery Avenger!"

I awoke from my slumber. I felt for my blade. Cold steel. I looked at the handle. Black opals. It was all a dream.

"Come on, Faerune!" my captor called out. "We must move if we wish to reach the Dreadlands by nightfall."


	2. Excavation

This is the beginning of the second book, the much-longer Tilkin's Fulfillment. I have not altered any of these chapters from the original version. Enjoy!

* * *

"It just stops right there," Tilkin exclaimed. "I wonder, what ever happened to him?"

"Nobody knows," Pa explained. "After he left the battle near the lake, his name dropped off the face of Norrath."

Tilkin stood up, stretched and yawned. Digging in a mining party was hard work for anybody, much less a gnome. He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small toy. It was broken and rusted from years of handling and use. He could still remember the beautiful music it would play after winding up the knob. He began to weep. "I wish Ma were here. I tear up every time I pull this out."

Pa placed his arm on Tilkin's back. "Its O.K., son. She's here in spirit."

Tilkin looked at Pa with his big blue eyes. He sniffled and wiped his eyes dry. "Pa, how long have you been trackin' this...Faerune?"

"Only about a year now," Pa replied. "I became interested in his story when I found this journal on the coast."

"Have you asked any of the residence of Fironia 'bout 'im?" Tilkin questioned.

"They don't care much for ol' adventurers like me." Pa took the journal from his son's hands and placed it in his backpack. He fumbled in his pocket and retrieved a pair of glasses. He put them on and scanned the wall.

"You see these markings over 'ere, son? I believe they are Dark Speech, except they have their own unique style to them. The only words I can decipher are, 'Doom, prophecy, fire,' and what seems to be a riddle. Tilkin, see if you can read it. My old eyes are failing me."

Tilkin reached into his pocket and got out a book of matches. He struck one of them against the wall and soon the area lit up. He placed his hands against the words and began to read it. "It seems to say, 'It kills at night, it kills at day. It can't be seen until it's too late. It doesn't care if its victim is man, woman, or child.'...are you writing this down, Pa?"

"Yes, yes I am, son. Very interesting," Pa answered. He quickly took out a notebook and his quill pen and recorded the words on the pages.

"Pa! You know it's not good to lie." Tilkin said. "Now, where's my cane?"

"Right here, son." Pa replied. He reached toward the ground and picked up a small cane. It was made from a maple tree that used to stand in their home's front yard. After Ma died, Pa cut down the little tree and fashioned the cane for Tilkin. It had a few knots on the handle. He handed it to his blind son and placed his hand on his back.

"I love you, Pa." Tilkin exclaimed. He finally had grip of the cane and began to hobble forward.

"Watch your head." Pa said. "I'll ready our steeds. We will head for the ruins of the Combine tomorrow."

"I can't trust you!" Faerune yelled.

"Your anger is clouding your judgment. You will not defeat your enemy without help!" his captor replied. They were in the lands of Dread, waiting for the Nexus Scion to allow them passage. They had been waiting there for almost three hours, and they had been arguing like this the entire time.

"Teleportation ready," the Scion stated.

"I've had enough of this and enough of you! Scion, get me out of here," Faerune demanded. He sheathed his sword and retrieved the stone from the Scion. Closing his eyes, he crushed the shard in his hand. Suddenly, a cloud of mana covered his body. Then, a powerful wind blew from the south, pushing the mana away. Faerune was gone.

His captor was furious. If only Faerune had listened instead of let past deeds overcome his senses..."Damnation! Scion, give me one of those shards!" he pronounced.

"I'm sorry, sir," the Nexus Scion replied in what sounded like a collective chant, "but I am afraid the next teleportation is not for another fifteen minutes."

"Argh!" Faerune's captor yelled. He reached for the ground, grabbed a rock and hurled it at the Scion. "Do you realize who I am?" He cleared his throat. "I am Abraham Marrlan, lord of the Paladins of Marr. If you do not let me through, the fate of Norrath itself will be in peril!"

"Force is not a way to Luclin and Luclin does not care who you are. I can make the next teleport come in as little as fifteen minutes, but if you make another outburst like that again, I have the right to refuse passage to whom I choose," the Scion stated.

"Fine."

Galena had overheard all the commotion. She was politely waiting for the next teleport while this Abraham kept aggravating the Scion. She wiggled out of her butterfly stance and walked towards him. "Do you mind?" she asked in a vary cocky manner. "I am trying to enhance my senses for the tournament. I cannot do that with you yelling all the time."

"You have no right to tell me what should do!" Abraham declared. He unsheathed his scimitar, nicknamed the Yelltar for its yellow tint. "Do not make me hurt you, woman!"

"Hurt me! Ha, I doubt you could lay a finger on me!" she said. She began to stretch out her legs against the massive spires.

"Choke on your lies!" Abraham shouted. He lifted his sword to his brow and charged at the monk.

A loud thunderclap hammered then to them. Abraham tripped over himself. His scimitar buried itself in the red earth.

Galena looked over towards the area where the sound came from. She saw that the Scion was charred and not moving. His body disintegrated in front of her eyes, revealing a cloaked figure. His eyes were glowing red and a evil grin shined from under his black veil. The wizard opened his palm and created a ball of living flame. His grin widened as he hurled in at the pair.


	3. Black Wizard's Society

"Duck" Abraham shouted. The massive fire passed just over their heads. Galena looked up and followed its path. It landed on the ground, creating a huge crater in the red earth.

Abraham reached for his sword. The wizard began humming a deathly tune. The sky was covered in black smoke. Winds whistled from all directions, and a massive spiral began to appear in the sky.

Galena stood up and stood in her fighting position. She reached for her shoulder and retrieve a small shrieken. She placed it between her fingers and reared back. With the flick of her wrist, the shrieken was sent screaming through the air at the wizard.

"Stop" Abraham shouted. It was too late. The wizard saw the shrieken flying in the air. He thrusted his hand toward it, palm opened and chanted another spell.

"You foolish girl! Are you trying to fight against me, or are you helping me" the wizard proclaimed.

The shrieken began to slow down, finally coming to a halt inches away from the caster's face. It was crushed into a ball, then molded into a small box. The box sprouted legs, arms, and a head. The wizard had created a metal golem.

The golem gleamed in excitiment. He used some of his own body to fashion a massive spear. "Goummm...Guyommm" it seemed to hum. He rushed toward Galena with lightning speed.

The wizard shouted"Any last requests?...No, well, kill her anyways" The golem raised his metal spear in the air and hurled it at Galena.

* * *

Freedrick had been dozing off near the Nexus. A loud crack echoed throughout the halls. He quickly awoke, shouting"You'll never take me alive, filthy rabbits"

Faerune had just entered the Nexus when he heard this. He saw out of the corner of his eye a halfling holding a bottle of whiskey in his hands and swinging at the air.

He approached this crazy hobbit saying "Woah there, big fella. What are you doing? There's no rabbits about."

Freedrick blinked several times and sighed. "Ahh, it musta been me ale. Y'know how da beer works in ya minds." He soon realized he was talking to his feet. "Oh, me sorry, sir. I forgot me introduction. I am Freedrick, halfling extrodiniar. Ya wanna here one of me famous songs"

"Well, actually, no. I was in a hurry and just thought I might get you out of your drunken trance." Faerune laughed as the little hobbit tried to dance around but tripped over himself.

"Where ya be headin', kind sir" Freedrick asked.

"I cannot speak of it. Sorry, I have wasted too much time already. I am being followed and I must make haste." Faerune readjusted his backpack and began to dash for the portal to Shadowhaven.

Freedrick tried to follow him, put his wee legs kept giving out every few steps. "Wait, Mr. Faerune! I'll come with ya"

* * *

Galena braced herself for impact. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best. A loud clank rattled her bones. She opened her eyes to see that Abraham had deflected the blow with his sword.

"Get the wizard! I'll handle 'Shiny' over here" he ordered. He pushed with all his might against the spear, creating sparks as steel clashed against steel.

Galena ran toward the wizard. He was still casting his maelstrom. She dashed at him and jumped into the air. Her foot crushed against his chest. She cartwheeled in the air and landed on one foot. In that moment, the balck haze was swept away and the blue sky was again revealed.

Abraham was being completely overpower by this behemoth when the golem suddenly stopped pushing. He had felt the hurt of his creator and rushed toward his aid.

Galena picked up the caster and held onto his head. She kneed him in the gut with full force. The caster dropped to his knees and grasped for his chest. Galena whispered under her breath"Say goodnight."

Abraham shouted"Watch out! Watch out for the golem" The golem was inching closer with every step. Abraham saw the monk jump into the air and place her feet on each side of the wizard's head. She landed on her hands, pushed up again, and twisted in the air. A loud snap echoed through the valley as the caster's head popped off his body. The golem pulled back his fist and thrusted toward the monk.

Galena looked over to see a massive metal fist headed for her head. It was inches away from her face, when suddenly, it stopped. The golem cried out, then melted into the ground. All that remained was the shrieken that she had thrown at her.

Pa and Tilkin were riding side by side, with their pack mule, Bill, just in tow. Tilkin was looking every which direction, but he knew that his pa wouldn't let him get lost. "Pa, what does the sunset look like"

Pa looked over at his son and smiled. "Well, I'll tell ya, boy. It's beautiful. The sun is just beyond the horizon and all sorts of colors appear. There are shades of red, shade of blue. I remember one time, Ma and I were walking near Halas and we saw the sunset over the Everfrost Peaks. It was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen! The snow was like a rainbow, all the colors reflecting off of the white background...I'm sorry, I got carried away."

"Its O.K., Pa. I enjoy your stories." Tilkin tried to imagine what red would look like. He gave up after a while.

"You doin' good back there, Bill? Of course you are." He reached back and began petting his thick fur. It was smooth, but hearty, almost like a chinchilla.

"Woah there" Pa ordered. The horses stopped in mid trot. Bill neighed. Pa placed his hand above his brow to block out the sunlight. He squinted and saw the Combine spires in the distance. Yet something seemed wrong. Normally, the spires would be glowing frm the presence of the Scion. But this time they were dark, hazy. "There's something wrong." Pa stated. He dismounted and tied Bill and his horse to a nearby log. He then mounted on Tilkin's horse. "Something very, very wrong. Yeeyah"


	4. Flight To Power

Freedrick stumbled through the portal. His mind was everywhere. He appeared in Shadowhaven. "What am I doing here" he thought. "Eh, it doesn't matter. Where did I put my mouse"

The merchants were all staring at this silly hobbit. He was patting himself down and mumbling to himself. He dug one hand deep into his pocket. An over exaggerated smile appeared on his face. He quickly took his hand out revealing a small rock. He petted it intently. His eyes were batting and he began to fall forward. The rock flew out of his hands, skipped on the ground a few times, and plopped into the water. The halfling hit the ground with a thud. The merchants rushed toward him, fearing the worst. One summoned the courage to turn him over. He didn't seem to be breathing. Finally, a loud, nasal snore erupted from his nasal cavity.

The merchant who turned him over kicked Freedrick in the side. "Ya filthy drunkard! Ya had me all worried"

Freedrick yawned and smacked his lips. In the corner of his eye, he saw Faerune speaking with a guide. Freedrick quickly sprang to his feet. He shouted"Mr. Faerune! Mr. Faerune"

Faerune heard the shouting. He looked over and saw the hobbit hobbling toward him. He tripped over himself and fell to the floor.

"Mr. Faerune, I can lead ya. I'm an expert at these things. I'm a bard, y'know. Best bard in the land" Freedrick proclaimed.

Faerune was puzzled. "But...Freedrick was it."

"Yes, sir! Freedrick's me name, don't where it out! Ya like that one, sir" Freedrick winked and nudged Faerune with his elbow.

"Hilarious" Faerune answered sarcastically. "But Freedrick, hobbits cannot be bards."

"And why not" Freedrick asked. He placed his hands on his hips.

"Because...because..."

"See, there isn't no reason halflings can't be bards. But as I was saying, I can be yer guide. I know the place like the back of my mouse. Where'd he go anyway" Freedrick frantically looked around for his pet. He looked in the pond and saw the rock on the bottom. "Jumping Jahosophat" He kicked off his boots, which were nothing more than paper sacks with strings, and dove into the water. He dove to the bottom of the pool and retrieve the small stone. He resurfaced and looked around. The ledges were much too tall for him to get out by himself. "Uhh, Faerune, ya mind helpin' a little guy outta 'ere"

Faerune sighed. He walked over to the edge of he pool and grabbed the hobbit's backpack. He jerked him clean out of the water and placed him on the dry ground. "Freedrick, I'm sure you'd be a great guide, but I do not think you can keep up with my pace."

"Ah, it'll be no sweat" Freedrick replied. He dashed ahead, looked back and shouted"See, I'm already ahead of you"

* * *

Tilkin held tightly on his horse's mane. He anxiously asked"What's happening, Pa? What is the problem"

Pa kicked the horse, urging it to run faster. "I don't know exactly, but something's happened at the Combine spires." He placed his hand above his brow and scanned the area in and around the spires. He picked out four figures, two standing, two lying down.

"Is the Scion O.K." Tilkin asked. "He was such a nice man. Remember when he lit that fire for us while we were waiting for the port. It was so cold that night."

"I don't know if he's O.K., son." Pa replied. "Just keep your head down and hold onto the mane."

"Yes, Pa."

Galena staggered to her feet. She tumbled over, exhausted from the fight. Abraham saw her pain and lent her a hand. He pulled her to her feet, saying "Thank you for killing the wizard. I was almost overpowered by that golem."

Galena blushed. "No, thank you. If you hand deflected that spear, we both would probably be dead right now." She dusted herself off and checked her body for any wounds. "By the way, how did you that the wizard was going to use my shrieken against me"

Abraham sighed and said"He was Black Wizard. They have been chasing me ever since I fled from Freeport. They keep telling me that I must atone for my past sins. But I have made my peace and they still stalk me. I've already tried to shoot arrows at the casters, but they use the arrowheads against me. They keep coming. I am about to give up."

"Hail, Abraham" Pa shouted. Tilkin waved.

"Hail, Crassus!" Abraham replied. He picked up his sword and waved at Tilkin. Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped at his sides. He fell to the floor and let out an agonizing groan.

"Abraham!" Pa shouted. He dismounted from his horse and ran to his friend's aid. He reached into his pack and pulled out some swaddling cloth. "Oh my, he's bleeding badly. You, woman, push right here as hard as you can." Galena hurried over and pressed her hands against Abraham's side.

"What's wrong, Pa? Is Abram hurt?" Tilkin asked. He knew not to get off the horse, so he held tightly on its mane.

"He's bleeding, but I should be able to stop the flow. Keep pushing!" Pa wiped his arm against his brow. He took out a needle and some thread and began sowing up the wound. It was deep, almost two inches in and four inches wide.

Abraham groaned in pain. All he could see was black. He felt a burning pain every single time Crassus weaved the thread through his skin.

"Almost done…there." Pa fell back from exhaustion. "Is he O.K. now, Pa?" Tilkin asked from his horse-top mount. "He'll be fine. My lord, Abram, what the hell gave you a wound like that?"

"Must have been that…blasted metal golem," he softly replied.

"Black Wizard's again? When will they realize that you already apologized?" Pa stomped his foot on the ground in disgust.

"Sorry to interrupt," Galena commented, "but who are these, 'Black Wizards'?"

"Rogue band of caster's from the nether regions of Kithcor," Abraham added. "They believe that they are the incarnate of the Tribunal and have the authority to try and punish every man, woman, and child on Norrath."

Pa added, "Back when we were young, we agreed to do business with the Freeport Militia. Abraham was working on following in his father's footsteps and becoming the lord of the Paladins of Marr, and I had settled down with my wife in the Eastern Commonlands. Times were tough back then, and no one would buy my products. So in desperation, I asked the Freeport Militia to help me with my predicament. They were normally nice people, but the week before, a new leader had been elected. His name was Sir Lucan D'Lere. He took it upon himself to help me with my sales. But instead of a friendly advertising campaign, he trashed, ran out, or destroyed all my rival business. Then, I had to do him a favor. I had to convince the council of Paladins to elect the new leader instead of use a monarchial system. There was a unanimous vote for an unknown elf, Colrayne Silvanis. This angered the still lord of Paladins, Adam Marrlan, and he went to the Freeport Militia for some 'help.' They agreed to kill the new lord if Adam's son, Abraham, joined their ranks soon afterward. So they set fire to the Temple of Marr during the night and blamed it on a new recruit, Faerune Justian…wait…Oh my lord!"

"What is it, Pa? Did something else go wrong?" Tilkin asked, still mounted on his horse.

"Faerune Justian! How could I have not of recognized that name! Tilkin, Faerune Justian is the real name of Faerune Silvanis, the man in the journal!" Pa jumped in excitement.

"You've been looking for Faerune all this time?" Abraham questioned. "Why, I was with him just over an hour ago! Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"You were? Oh what magnificent luck we have!" Pa quickly fumbled throughout his spell book and found the one he was looking for. "Here we are, Revive. Step back, everyone."

Pa closed the book and placed it in his pack. He took off his backpack and placed it slowly on the ground. He stepped forward a few time and began chanting the spell. A dark cloud covered the sky. The entire area was pitch black, the only light to be seen for mile was the light given off by the flowing strands of mana. Suddenly, a small beam of light escaped through the clouds. It was pinpointed on the heart of the Nexus Scion. It grew large with each passing moment until the light covered his entire body. A ghostly image floated down through the light and landed in the Scion's shell. He jolted. The skies became clear, and the Scion opened his eyes.

He slowly climbed to his feet and stated, "Thank you, kind cleric. I was dead and now I am alive again. Is there anything I can do for such noble travelers?"

"Give us all passage to the Nexus," Pa clearly replied.

"Very well." The Scion snapped his fingers and four stones appeared before him, encircling his body. He gave each of the persons a stone, starting with Pa. He gave the last one to Abraham and whisper, "I am sorry I have caused you so much trouble."

Pa ran over and picked Tilkin off of the horse. He kicked it in the butt and the horse galloped off. They all formed a circle, closed their eyes, and crushed the shards.


	5. Revelations

Faerune entered the caves of Paludal. He had seen this place in his dreams. A massive lake occupied the center of the quarry, with gigantic fish swimming all about it. There were two crude camps on each side of the lake. In each camp stood about six to ten bandits, hiding in here in order to escape from the Black Wizards. More primitive beasts lived further in, from myconids to phlarg fiends. Faerune slowly walked to the edge of the tunnel and stood next to Freedrick.

Freedrick smiled and tilted back on his heels. "Ah, she be a beauty, eh? I haven't been in 'ere since, oh, five years. But these walls hold a many memories, and I will find our way around. By the way, Mr. Faerune, where ya be headin'?"

Faerune remained silent as he took in all the wonders of the underground realm. A young child was running through the camps, chasing a small owlbear.

"Mr. Faerune?" Freedrick restated. He looked into his eyes and tried to pick out what he was looking at. It was almost as if he was staring into space. "Yoo-hoo, Mr. Faerune, is anybody home?"

Faerune batted his eyes. Everything was a blur. The only thing he could focus on was a small child in the camp. She was sitting in a chair, covered in cloth. Her face seemed gentle, caring, like a mother's love. Faerune wanted that love. He longed for it more than anything else in these realms. But he kept looking past his wants. She coughed several times. "Cursed you!" Faerune whispered under his breath, "it is your fault I have to do this!" Faerune reached for his sword.

"Mr. Faerune, what are you doing? There be no need to wield your weapon at this time. Those Recondite don't take a too kindly of strangers, much less strangers holdin' a big sword." Freedrick grabbed hold of Faerune's leg and pulled with all his might. It was no use; Faerune was much too strong.

Faerune placed both hands on the handle. With a small twist, the blade began to change. The cavern turned completely dark. Faerune marched toward the camp. His footsteps left white imprints in the ground. The only light in the cave was gleaming from the fire burning brightly in his eyes. He lifted his hilt to his chest and spun the blade in his hands. The momentum attached to sword followed it as he swung the blade down upon the girl. She cried in pain as the blade ripped through her torso.

"Snap out of it, Mr. Faerune!" Freedrick begged. "Wake up from yer trance!"

Faerune doubled back, lost his footing and fell over. The cave became lit again, revealing the heinous crime committed. The girl was still sitting in her chair, motionless. The blanket she was using to keep warm was covered in dark red blood. Her family rushed to her aid. Her mother hugged her daughter and began to weep uncontrollably. The Recondite saw Faerune lying on the floor. "There's tha bastard." All the bandits pulled out their blades at once and circled Faerune on the floor.

"Faerune, wake up!" Freedrick yelled. His pushed his little legs to run faster than he'd ever run before. He ripped out a small flute from his backpack and began to play a soft, whimsical tune. The blades were getting closer to Faerune when Freedrick placed his hand on him. They vanished into thin air. The bandits looked around in wonder. One larger Vah Shir looked over his shoulder to make sure nothing had dragged him away. A slice appeared on his neck. He grabbed from his throat and dropped to his knees. Blood ran in between his fingers as he dropped to the floor. The other bandits quickly looked back, only to see their friend convulsing on the floor. They all re-grabbed their swords, and moved toward the body. A halfling female clutched his Vah Shir's vest. An unholy wind whistled through the cavern. The hobbit looked to the lake to see a waterspout twirling in the water. A water maiden appeared in the maelstrom and began humming a coaxing tune. The Recondite dropped everything they were doing and marched toward the water's edge. White-crested waves crashed against the sides of the rock as the maiden continued her chant. The bandits did not notice the water; they kept walking toward the siren.

The siren was beautiful. He skin was a pale blue. She was ever changing, like the tides. Her hair was long, flowing with the wind. She gave the bandits a smile. They were all entranced by charisma of the water maiden. Then the waters changed. Instead of a deep blue, the water was quickly transformed into a burning red. The maiden's charismatic appearance changed as well. She became a gorgon, snakes in her hair, stone look in her eyes. The bandits cowered in fear. They leapt to the ground, ran into the walls, or attacked each other in a crazed mob. Several bandits drowned, others ran senseless from battle, while still others fought each other, hoping it would end their torment. Not long afterward, not a single bandit was left in the cave.

Freedrick laughed to himself. He started to string his lute and sang, "Oh, the mighty hobbit has saved the day, he scared the bandits all away, and now everyone will have to say, the hobbit has saved the day! They came from the left; they came from the right. The mighty hobbit knew that they might. He pulled out his sword and struck the right cord, and pop goes the weasel!"

* * *

They foursome appeared in the Nexus. Tilkin rhythmically tapped on the floor with his cane to find his way around. Galena and Abraham both walked toward the railing. Crassus dropped all of his items when he caught full view of the Nexus. This was his first trip to the crossroads of the planets. The entire area was parallel to itself. At each of the four paths stood a Scion. They were clad in similar robes; the only difference was the color. A massive stone was rammed into the center of the ceiling, mana slowly trickling from the tip. The mana flowed in a constant stream throughout the planar portal, creating magnificent patterns on the floor. At each entrance to the various zones connected to the Nexus, two guards stood at attention. They were all wearing full plate, except for one. She was in regular clothing.

Crassus slowly walked up to the odd guard and asked, "Excuse me…Larren." He looked at a nametag on her chest. "This place seems to be symmetrical, what is the significance of that?"

"That is a good question, sir," she replied in the same chant-like tone as the Kunark Scion used, only this time more feminine. "Symmetry is an essential part of magic. Whenever someone casts an offensive spell, such as Sunstrike, in order for the spell to complete itself, someone else has to be casting a spell that counteracts the damage done by Sunstrike, such as Complete Heal. Now, certain times, Complete Heal might heal more damage than Sunstrike causes, so another offensive spell must be cast to counteract the extra points healed by the Complete Heal. If at anytime these requirements are unable to be fulfilled, a spectacle known to mortals as a 'fizzle' occurs. These happen frequently since it is often hard for magic to find the necessary people to neutralize itself. There is another, rarer occurrence that can take place. On very few occasions, the magic continues to be cast even though there is no other spells being cast that counteract it. A rip in the planes occurs and the person is never heard from again. Many scholars have tried to send a probe into the new plane to collect data, but so far nothing. The scholars have placed stone tablets with the writings of Fironia Vie engraved into the marble on every rip. In fact, there is one just on the other side of the circle. I would not use them though. We do not have enough information on the other plane to safely allow common travelers to pass through."

"Hrmm, you said that this Nexus was supposed to be symmetrical, yet you are much different from your counterpart. Why is this?" Pa asked.

"You are correct, the Nexus is almost completely symmetrical, which neutralizes most of the magic cast each time a stone is summoned to the various spires throughout Norrath. But somehow, our ways of travel were discovered by the common man. So the magic had to compensate for the new flux of mana. So the Nexus reshaped itself in order to counteract the new teleporters. I am not symmetrical with my partner, because if I were, then no one would be able to reach the moon of Luclin."

"Which area are you and your counterpart guarding?" Crassus asked.

"We here are guarding the marketplace known as the Bazaar. Across the hall, two persons stand guarding the entrance to the caves of Paludal. Yet, during the reformation, rocks in the ceiling were dislodged and crashed down onto the floor below, cutting off the pathway. To my right is the entrance to Shadowhaven, the mortal outpost of the Nexus. To my left is the entrance to the Netherbain Lair. It is a long hallway whose only purpose is to lead travelers to either the barren white desert of Marus Seru, or the Dawnshroud Peaks."

"Thank you for everything." Crassus turned and walked to the others. "So where do you think Faerune might have gone? Do we have any clue on what his final destination is?"

Tilkin waved his small arm in the air, "Oh, we have that riddle, Pa. Do you still have that notebook?"

"Indeed I do, son." He fumbled through his backpack, but came up with nothing. "Where in the world did…wait," he grabbed at his coat pocket, "oh, there it is."

He reached into his pants and pulled out the tiny book. He flipped through the pages, most of which were littered with notes, and found the riddle. He cleared his throat, "'It kills at night, it kills at day. It can't be seen until it's too late. It doesn't care if its victim is man, woman, or child.' Hrmm, does anyone happen to have a clue what he might be talking about? Abram, you were with him when he wrote this right, did he ever mention anything like this to you?"

"No," Abraham replied, "Never, he always seemed quiet and to himself."

"Maybe it has to do with his pain from before, Pa. Is there anything in that journal that has to do with the riddle," Tilkin asked.

Pa took the journal out of his backpack and flipped through it. "Nope, I don't see anything in here."

Galena shook her head, "Well, I have no idea what this could…"

"…It's a plague."

The group turned toward the voice. It was a tall man, a crimson cloak covering most of his body. He held a gnarled staff, about twice his height. He was slumped over; age had taken its toll on his health. His skin was extremely tan, almost black. A ragged whiskery beard covered his chin. He spoke again with his deep ominous voice, "It is a plague. A plague kills at anytime of the day. You don't know if your affected until it is too late. A plague does not care your state in society, nor whether you're a woman or child."

Crassus walked toward him. "What gives you the right to spy on us? I don't even know if I can trust you. Reveal yourself."

The man used his drooping arm to pull back his cowl. A large forehead appeared on the man. He was an Erudite of Odus. "I meant no harm, traveler. I only wished to help you with your journey. My name is Magus Bellator, wizard of Quellious. I wish to accompany you on your journey."

"Yay, another adventurer!" Tilkin raised his hands in the air. "Please to me you, Magus, I am Tilkin."

"I am Galena, monk of the Flaming Fist." Galena bowed in humility.

"I am Abraham Marrlan, lord of the Paladins of Marr."

"I am Crassus, gnome adventurer. By the way, did you happen to see a young human pass through here not too long ago."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did. He first stopped to talk to the local drunkard, Freedrick, then quickly ran to Shadowhaven. Freedrick ran close behind."

The crowd went back and gathered their possessions. Tilkin stood near the railing, cane in his right hand. The erudite Erudite walked towards the young gnome. "Why are you holding that cane, young master?"

Tilkin moved his head in the direction of the sound. "Because of the Freeport Militia. After my daddy did his part in the overthrow of the paladin monarchy, the Militia betrayed my father, sighting him as a scapegoat. They came to our house at night, killed my mother and burned my eyes with a branding iron. I was only a wee one then, so I don't remember what seeing was like. Is it amazing, Magus?"

"It is truly a gift of Quellious. But do not worry; the Tranquil has a meaning for each and every creature on this world. Your time to shine will come, young master."

"Ok, were ready. Let's get a move on," shouted Abraham. The part trotted over to the Shadowhaven portal and vanished.

* * *

Marekk sat in his office. It was on the highest floor in the Wizard's Tower. In fact, he was the only resident of the magnificent architectural achievement. A large oak desk was before him, glistening after a recent dusting. It was covered in papers, ranging from letters to the scouts on Luclin to a list of sinners. He was a dark elf. He stood six feet tall, large for a Teir'dal. His hair was completely white, except for a small patch of black in the front. He had a white scepter in his hand. He wore his ceremonial scarlet robe. A gold trim covered the edges at his hood and his feet. An officer walked into the office.

"I said no interruptions! Can't you see I am busy here?" He stood up in disgust and reached for his bell to call the royal guards.

"Wait, sir, I have received word that Harlk has fallen in battle," the officer informed. His stood as straight as a tree trunk, trying not to look insubordinate in front of his commanding officer.

"Blast! Harlk was one of our best men. Who was he sent after?" the Supreme Justice grumbled.

"According to the records filed on August fourteenth, he was sent after a man by the name of Abraham Marrlan. His crimes were betrayal of a fellow man, and treason to the king. Last word we had heard from him was that he had scheduled a trip to Kunark."

"Well add on another crime to his list: killing of a Black Wizard. Do we know why he is on Kunark?" Marekk began to spin the scepter between his fingers.

"Not presently, sir. But we do know that after he killed Harlk, he met with two gnomes and ported to Luclin."

"Have we sent a judge to track him down?"

"No, sir. All of our judges are already overwhelmed with other business. We could send a bailiff with a jury support with him," the officer suggested. He had failed to mention that he was a judge. He did not feel like going on a mission. It had been only a day since he left his apprenticeship and became a full-fledged judge.

"What is your name, rank and proficiency, officer?" the Supreme Justice asked.

The officer hesitated, but he knew the rules and that he must replied to any question asked by a commanding officer. He sighed and said, "I am Edwin, a judge of the Black Wizards. My mastery of magic is conjuration and deception."

Marekk gleamed in delight. "Well, I don't see any problem in sending you to decide this Abraham's fate, do you?"

Edwin looked at the floor and sighed, "No, I don't either, sir."

"Good! Then it's settled. You will leave for Luclin tomorrow. I will set an appointment for your teleportation with Deedra. I wish you good luck. May the Tribunal stand by your judgment."

Edwin saluted the Supreme Justice and walked out of the room. The two large doors slammed shut behind him. He looked from left to right to see if anyone was around, and began to fit. "Only yesterday had I become a judge and now I already have my first mission! Why me, lords? Why me?" He almost turned around to kick the door in disgust when he came to his sense. He chastised himself for almost making an outburst. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a copper piece. The stairway was long and winding, and he decided it'd be much easier to float down. He threw the copper piece in the air. It shifted and spread out like a pancake. He stepped onto the levitation device and waited. It slowly dropped to the bottom floor. He looked around the tower. He had seen it almost a hundred times before: winding stairway, stained-glass windows meticulously placed every time the walked reached a cardinal direction, torches placed at every intermediate direction. The steps were made of stone from a nearby quarry in High Keep. Again, much time and effort was made in the creation of the staircase. Each stone was six inches high, one foot wide, and two feet long. He remembered counting them on his frequent trips to the Justice's office. There were exactly four hundred and twenty-five thousand steps made. He made it to the ground and walked through the door.

Suddenly, a woman ran up to him. "Help! Help! We're under attack!"


	6. Dust in the

"I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moments gone. All my dreams, passed before my eyes, a curiosity. Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind. Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea. All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see. Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind. Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky. It slips away, and all your money, won't another minute buy. Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind. Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind."

Faerune had been listening the entire time. The music was soothing, even if the words were not. He didn't open his eyes in fear that Freedrick might feel embarrassed and stop playing. A halfling bard, I never thought I'd see the day, he thought. He rolled over onto his other shoulder, trying to find a comfortable place on this gravel. How did I end up over here? He barely opened one eye, squinting to see into the pitch black. No more bandits? I wonder where they had all run off to.

Freedrick held his guitar and strummed it slowly. He placed it back in his backpack. He sighed as the warmth of the fire radiated throughout his body. He stood up and crept toward Faerune, trying not to wake him. He sat on a log nearby and whispered, "Ah, you musta be exhossted. But you dun need to worry, Mr. Faerune, Freedrick here a saved ya. Keep restin', wi'll travel tomarry." Freedrick slumped over against the rock wall and snored.

Edwin nearly jumped out of his robe. He looked at the woman to see her laughing hysterically at him. "Real funny, Deedra. You know that I'm high strung."

Deedra gasped for air after nearly making Edwin soil himself. Between her heavy breaths she uttered, "Of…c-c-c-course…I know…why would…I d-d-d-do it if you weren't?" She was a half human, half barbarian. He wasn't as tall as most of the barbarians around the camp, she what she lacked in height, she made up for in strength of mind. She wore a purple robe with black fray that covered her body from neck to toe. She reached into her robe and retrieved a small parchment. She unraveled it and read aloud. "By the order of Supreme Justice M-M-M-Marekk, I am hereby your g-g-g-guardian on the trip to Luclin. I am to ensure you safe arrival t-t-t-to the moon, and t-t-t-to represent you on your j-j-j-journey." She placed the parchment back into her robe. "Another ghost c-c-c-chase, huh, Edwin?"

Edwin wrinkled his forehead in confusion, "I just received that order, how were you able to get the writing down before I even left the tower?"

She giggled. "Carrier pigeons, silly. It's the wave of the future." She pointed in the sky to a small grayish bird fly from out the window of the tower. It swooped downward and landed nearby a scribe. He took the paper off of the bird's delicate leg and reached for a piece of parchment. He copied the note onto the parchment and gave it to a crier. They faintly heard the name "Grottin…" come from the crier's lips. A small gnome scurried over to the man. The crier asked the gnome a few questions then handed him the parchment. The gnome scanned the order, then threw it on the ground. A guard come out from a tent and grabbed the gnome. "Poor Grottin, he knows any act of aggression t-t-t-toward the Supreme Justice is a c-c-c-crime. I hope they don't t-t-t-torture him like they did with Yllrin." Deedra looked over to the gallows. Yllrin's body still hung limply in the noose, warning others not to make his same decision.

"You do not need to worry, Deedra. Your Lord Tyrannicus's daughter. He could pull some strings if you ever got into any trouble. Now we must make haste. I fear that with every passing second that this Abraham will be further into the unknown regions of Luclin." Edwin turned quickly around, robe flaring up against the wind. "Come, Deedra. Let us get into a more open area for you teleportation." The two walked out of the camp and into the thick Kithcor woods.

Marekk looked out his window at the two leaving the camp. He sat in his chair and fumbled through some papers on his desk. He placed his elbow on the desk and leaned against. Why was he placed in this rotten position? He thought to himself. I was the greatest judge of the Black Wizards. Every single criminal I was appointed to take down was judged either that day or the day after. Tyrannicus and I were the perfect team. All of our captured men plead nolo contendere. Now, I'm stuck with a supreme power, but am unable to truly use it. No matter, if everything goes as planned, I can finally be free of these binding chains of law.

Tyrannicus broke through the doors. He was a massive barbarian. A mist wolf hide covered his back while a glossy black breastplate covered his torso. He wore a flannel kilt, with his axe, the Frostmoon, dangling on his belt. A large, extravagant helmet was upon his head. He yelled out, "Marekk! Why is my daughter leaving with that womanizing bastard?"

Marekk was not shocked by Tyrannicus's intrusion. It almost became habit. Whenever his daughter would leave for anything, he would burst through the doors demanding an explanation. Marekk could have easily had Tyrannicus killed for entering the Supreme Justice's quarters without permission, but he had a mutual respect for the man who had saved his life so many times. "She was the only attorney available at the present time. You and I both know that crimes have risen nearly three fold this past year, and we aren't recruiting enough newcomers to keep up the demand."

Tyrannicus still argued, "Couldn't you have gotten Emila, or D'lock to represent that snake Edwin?"

"Emila was already assigned to represent another judge, and you know that D'lock has been trying to kill Edwin ever since he set foot in this camp. Tyrannicus, you can't hold onto her forever. She needs to see the world. You know that, don't you?

Tyrannicus hung his head lower. His helmet cast a shadow over his eyes, hiding his tear-filled eyes. "I know, but she's still just a kid. And she's been taking a liking to that Edwin. She's growing up so fast." He wiped his eyes with his arm. "Dammit! When I was on the battlefield, I never had to worry about these things. I miss those days, Marekk. Why'd we end up here? I can't sit around all day signing papers! There's too much warrior in my blood! When are the plans going to be set into motion?"

"Soon, my good attorney, soon."

Tilkin walked in the back of the group, though he did not know it, with Magus. "Mr. Magus, what does this place look like? It's called Echo Caverns, but I haven't hear a single echo this entire time."

"That's because if someone were to talk too loud, the entire cave would become aware of us and quite possibly attack us. We need to keep our voices down so that won't happen, O.K.?"

"O.K., Mr. Magus," Tilkin whispered. He tried to whisper louder than normal to catch Pa's attention. "Pa, have we seen any sign of Faerune yet? My legs are getting offly tired." He rhythmically tapped the floor as he walked along.

Crassus whispered back, "No sign of Faerune, but I see some light at the end of this hallway."

Abraham was leading the group, sword drawn. "Keep quiet back there. I see movement ahead." He picked up the pace and squinted to see what was in the distance. Suddenly, a slight buzzing sound came from the brush. Abraham looked around to see what had caused the noise, but saw nothing. He turned around and looked at the group. They all had the same confused expression on their faces. All except Tilkin, he was looking around as usual, but this time he had a determined look on his face, as if trying to calculate where the sound had come from. He finally honed in on a small bush in the corner. Abraham followed Tilkin's eyes and crept toward the bush. Another buzz came from the bush, followed by another, much louder buzz. Abraham pulled his sword to his side, and in one swift motion, hacked the bush in two.

Green blood shot from the bush and a two large mosquito appeared from the mangled shrub, one falling, the other rising. Abraham tried to swat at the rising one with his sword, but the mosquito was far too fast. Every time he missed with his sword, the mosquito would jab at neck and arms, sucking out cups of blood each time. Abraham's vision became cloudy. He muttered, "Guys, a little help…"

Galena slowly walked toward the bloodsucker and closed her eyes, leaving herself virtually unprotected. Abraham shouted, "Galena, guard yourself, it's heading straight for you." He made one last measly swing at the mosquito before it fly out of his reach and sped for the unprotected Galena.

Galena's eyes remained closed as the mosquito's buzz drew closer and closer. It overconfidently lunged for the woman. At the last possible moment, Galena opened her eyes and grabbed the mosquito's sucker, crushing it in her hand. She took the flailing body of the insect and crushed it in her other hand. Abraham's blood seeped through her fingers and trickled to the floor.

Abraham fell to the floor. He felt his life leaving him. He reached for his gauntlet and removed it from his right hand. He placed his hand on his neck. A pale blue glow radiated from his body as a healing wave traveled to his wounds. They disappeared, almost as if they had been zippers. He felt his life returning to him. He reached for his sword and used it as a brace to get to his feet. The party rushed beside him. Tilkin was almost left behind, but Crassus turned back around and picked him up. "Is everything alright, Pa?"

"I think so," Pa said unconfidently, "but we should go and make sure everyone's O.K."

Magus leaned over and picked up the first mosquito killed and studied it. It must have been at least three feet long, from head to toe. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small art pad and a ruler. He quickly sketched the mosquito, noting all the major measurements. Length from one end to other: three feet. Length of legs: two feet. Length of sucker: six inches. Length of torso: immeasurable. (Note: body was cut in two, cannot make accurate estimate.) He flipped the page over and wrote down other scientific information about the mosquito. Color: light green. Known Habitat: Echo Caverns. Scientific Name: unknown.

"Magus, hurry up! Either stay there in the dark with that stupid mosquito or come down here," ordered Crassus.

"Very well, the advancement of science can wait for the senseless pursuit of man," Magus mumbled. He put the art pad back into his pocket and ran toward the group, robe billowing behind him.

Guard Quarto stood lazily at the doorway. His head was hunched over and his body was heaving slowly. The door opened slowly, and out crept Crassus and the others. Tilkin kept tapping the floor, when he accidentally hit the wooden door. Quarto jumped awake, mumbling, "I'm sorry, sir. We don't have anymore potatoes." He looked up to see five people staring at him. Embarrassed, he recited what seemed to be an old welcoming, "Welcome to Shadowhaven. I am glad that you have chose to stay here, please exit using the door to your right."

Tilkin whined, "Shadowhaven! We were just here! Pa, did you get us turned around in circles?"

Crassus scratched his pseudo-baldhead. A few hairs left drifted to the ground. "No, this isn't the same way we went into the Caverns. Excuse, sir, how come we seemed to be back in Shadowhaven."

"Oh, this happens all the time. Don't worry, it's not that uncommon for people to use the main entrance and come back up through the side entrance."

"Why in the world would you have two entrances to one place?" Abraham demanded.

"Because…" the guard paused for a moment, "Truth is, Shadowhaven is strapped for cash. So, we built the Echo Caverns to look like a real tunnel even though your most likely going to just end up back here. And since the halls of the cave are so dark, we employ thieves to steal from you on your trip to nowhere."

Tilkin checked his pocket, then sighed in relief when he still felt his music box there. Crassus felt for his, nothing was gone. Magus felt for his money pouch, but it was gone. "Damnation! You people are cold hearted, you know that?"

Guard Quarto just shrugged.

Galena stepped forward. She didn't have to worry because she never carried any money around. All her winnings from contests were safely in her bank account. "Do the guards work in shifts?"

"Yes, in fact we do."

"Where were you last posted?"

"Some lame job on the other side of the bridge to Paludal. That is a real cave. Swarmed with baddies. We had a surge of bandits flood toward us, running madly away from something inside. Me and my buddy, Carlson, we hacked a bunch of them down. Cut off a few heads and watched their bodies run into the water below. Quite funny, actually. Why did you ask?" He looked up to see no one around. He shrugged again and fell back asleep.

"Do you think that's Faerune who did that?" Crassus asked Abraham.

"I'm certain of it."


	7. Gods And Ants

Faerune woke up to the sweet smell of fish. He stretched out and yawned. Freedrick sat on a log with a small stick in his hand, slowly twisting it 'round and 'round. The flames lightly licked the fish on the end. Shadows behind Freedrick danced at the quivering light. He shook the dead cod and pulled it away from the fire. Mouth wide, he took a bite out of the fish's side. "Oh, good morning, Faerune! Trust me, it's morning. Living in a hole for most of ya life makes ya learn 'ow to keep track of da time." He pointed the dangling 'fish on a stick' at Faerune. "Hungry?"

"Not really, lets get moving. This place isn't my choice area to make camp. Once we get out of here, where will we surface?" Faerune asked.

Freedrick scratched his head with the pointed end of the stick. "Hrmm, I think it'd be Shadeweaver's Thicket, but I not so sure." He turned around and picked up a large bucket. In one swift motion, he doused the fire with the bucket of water.

Faerune wasn't paying much attention to Freedrick. He swore he could hear footsteps. He peered into the black fog and saw five people walking slowly toward his camp. One was in the front, holding a large yellow scimitar. Faerune spun back around and whispered, "Freedrick, you're a bard, right?"

"Yes I am, Mr. Faerune. Best bard in the land. Why? Feelin' a little glum? Want me to play a cheery song, huh?"

"Can you play the drums?"

"Best drummer in the land!" He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small set of snares. "Wanna here Taps?"

"No, get us out of here." Faerune looked back to see how close the party was. The yellow scimitar pointed toward his direction, while the other hand beckoned the rest of the group to follow. "Now!"

"Whatever ya say, Mr. Faerune." Freedrick pulled out a set of sticks and began to roll them on the white surface. A rush of adrenaline filled Freedrick's blood. "Tut, tadatut, tadatut-tut-tut, taladeludeludelud. That fast enough for ya, Mr. Faerune?"

Faerune felt the adrenaline as well. "Perfect, now go!"

* * *

Abraham looked in surprise as the once close figures were now a dragon's tail away. He kicked the dirt in disgust. "Damnation! You were right, Magus. That small halfling is a bard. I've never see anyone, rather, anything move that fast!"

Magus grinned. "I told you, boys. The halfling might be a drunkard most of the time, but when it comes down to sheer skill, he'll whip anyone into their place."

Galena saw that they had no chance to catch up to the runners in time, so she sat in the lotus position and meditated. "The tournament is coming soon, I must leave you all. I know that finding this Faerune is important, but it does not concern my matters. Being head disciple at the academy of the Flaming Fist is my top priority. If I happen to fail, which is highly doubtful, I will come looking for you." She stood up and bowed slightly at the party. "Farewell, noble adventurers." She walked over toward Tilkin. She placed her hand on his blond hair. "Take care of these old men, will you, Tilkin?"

Tilkin giggled with delight, "Silly Galena. I will miss you!" He waved pointlessly toward the water as Galena pranced off to his left.

"Come along now, son. They might be far away, but it seems that watching from afar is the best way to track them." Crassus placed his hand on Tilkin's shoulder and led him down the pathway.

* * *

Edwin appeared in the realm of Shadowhaven. All the merchants sneered at him and closed their shops. Being a Black Wizard was not a crime in Shadowhaven, as long as any of the killings did not happen on city grounds. But their reputation was know far and wide, making them prime targets for ridicule and assassinations. Deedra came in closely behind Edwin and whispered, "Why must the merchants b-b-b-be so unwelcoming? We have not broken any of their l-l-l-laws."

"Our reputation precedes us. We cannot do anything to make them not hate us, all we can do is live with it." Edwin walked off of the platform and asked the local soulbinder. "Excuse me, miss? Did you happen to see two gnomes walk by here anytime soon?"

The soulbinder was normally indifferent to all, but this time she sneered at them. "Your brethren killed a Scion. They are our allies. I will not speak to your kind."

Deedra stepped forward, standing face to face with the other woman. "Do n-n-n-not pass judgment on us, m-m-m-miss. We are only doing our m-m-m-mission."

"Was your mission including killing an innocent Scion? The people of the Nexus are a collective spirit. They know the turmoil of the world below and try and be equal with all, but one of your 'cultist' wizards destroyed him for no apparent reason!"

Deedra tried to refute her statement, but the soulbinder crossed her arms, signaling her intent to stop the conversation. Deedra growled and pulled back her fist, preparing to strike. Edwin stepped in front of her and grabbed her wrist. "Deedra, if you hit her, you'll only prove her right. We do not need her help. It is a know fact that the quickest way to the surface, which I will assume they will be heading for, is through the caves of Paludal." He turned toward the pathway and marched forward, with Deedra dragging behind him.

* * *

Galena has just crossed over the bridge when she saw the two black-robed wizards. One was young man, the other, a strongly built female. She backed away back onto the bridge. Damn, they must be after me for killing that wizard. Wait, if I stay on the bridge, the law states that commoners couldn't kill anyone on the grounds of Shadowhaven without permission of the local authority. Just as long as they don't back me to the other side of the bridge, I will be fine.

The wizards walked up to her. The man spoke with a young squeaky voice. "Excuse me, miss. There have been reports of two gnomes and a large human wandering through those caves. Did you happen to see any of them when you were end there?" The female was looked intently at Galena, as if waiting for something.

Galena cleared her throat. "No, sir," she said hesitantly, "I have not seen two gnomes or a large human wandering through those caves."

The woman's expression relaxed, and she quickly looked at the man. He deepened his voice and spoke again, this time more demanding. "Are you sure that you have not seen them?"

Galena slowly nodded her head.

The man pulled out a small wand and inched closer toward Galena. The woman removed her robe to reveal a full set of silver plate male covering her body. In her scabbard lay a large kukri, one end normal, the other sharp and jagged. Galena looked around but knew the law was on her side. "I don't know if you know this, but Shadowhaven law prohibits the use of weapons with the intent of killing on its grounds," she said confidently.

The women softly spoke with a scratchy voice, "We kn-n-n-now, but the city limits end right-t-t-t there." She point to the end of the bridge closest to them. Galena stood in fighting position and glared at the Black Wizards, but her tactics had no use. She jumped into the air and preformed a roundhouse, but she stopped in mid-motion. She struggled to move her muscles, but they were locked in place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man holding his arms out and chanting. Galena let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was ripped limb from limb.

* * *

Faerune was running at incredible speeds, almost floating to the naked eye. He could see the hobbit in front of him clanging on his snares and almost dancing to the beat. Suddenly, Freedrick skidded to a halt, creating long streaks of dirt in the ground. Faerune was unable to stop himself fast enough, and he plowed into the small hobbit.

Freedrick stumbled to his feet and rubbed his noggin, "Aye, ya idiyawt. Ya almost got me kilt!" He helped Faerune to his feet and walked toward a small opening in the wall. "This be da fastest way outta dis retched place! Whenever I be olone, I can just crawl threww dat hole meself." He sized Faerune up, scratching the whiskers on his chin. "I don't think ya be able to fit, Mr. Faerune. But not ya werry, I 'ave just the tink for ya!" He reached into his backpack and retrieved a small vile of blue liquid. "'Ave a drink! It'll make ya as small oar even smaller dan meself!"

Faerune reluctantly took the vile from Freedrick's hands and quaffed it. He coughed and convulsed for a moments, then stood still. His arms shot into his body all the way up to his elbows; his legs did the same up to his knees. Everything else about him stayed the same. He looked at his new body and frowned. "Freedrick, I look like a lollipop kid! Lets hurry this up!"

Freedrick laughed at Faerune's new appearance. "Arh, ya look like a deformed gnome. Ya wouldn't catch any f'male round ya, even if ya got 'er drunker than…well, me!" Freedrick kneel down and began to crawl through the hole.

Faerune followed his example. He coughed as Freedrick pushed dust into his face. "Watch where your flailing those feet, will you?"

* * *

Marekk paced in his office. A sudden snowstorm had hit the forest and caught the Wizards by surprise. The fierce winds were almost demonic in power, toppling the tents and makeshift cabins outside. All of the Wizards had to pile inside of the tower to keep warm. The stairs were inaccessible; shivering bodies used each step as their beds. Marekk was trapped inside of his office, unable to walk down the massive stairs. "Guards! Summon the rainmaker!"

A murmured replied seeped through the thick, wooden doors. The rainmaker walked into the room. He was an old man, with a long, white beard reaching down to his waist. He wore a forest green robe, torn and frayed from years in the harsh weather. His eyes were glazed white; his smile was rugged and tired out. He spoke in a raspy voice, "Hello, Marekk, Supreme Justice of the Black Wizards. By what reason have you summoned me here?"

"By what reason? Look outside, you old fool!" He turned around and jerked the drapes apart. The howling wind entered the room and chilled the air. Marekk's breath was visible in the cold air. "That is why I called you here! We cannot travel while this blizzard from hell swirls around us!" Marekk slammed his fist on the desk, shaking the papers and trinkets strewn about its surface. "Where did it come from?"

The rainmaker kept his placid appearance. "I have spent many days investigating this unnatural storm. The only conclusion I was able to muster was that this storm was not on Norrath before two nights ago."

Marekk looked at the rainmaker in disgust. "Of course it wasn't here before two nights ago! If it were, we would have known about it! Don't spew out information that we already know!"

The rainmaker remained calm, never hinting toward anger or cowardice. "Before you ridicule my work, you must know something about weather. It is not a spontaneous occurrence. The weather we see from time to time is the same storm we might have seen three weeks ago. The band of inclement weather is only changing, whether it is by size or by temperature. What I mean by the statement earlier is that this blizzard was not on Norrath's regular weather bands."

"What does that mean? Where did this devilry come from?" Marekk questioned. His mind was taxed with thousands of possibilities: maybe it came from Luclin, or a powerful shaman summoned it upon their heartland.

"I do not know for sure, but I believe that a system of this power can only come from the hand of the god of thunder and weather, Karana." The rainmaker stood firm, almost anticipating the ridicule and torture about to thrust upon him.

Marekk was stunned. Karana, god of thunder is persecuting us? he thought. Why hasn't the council of the Tribunal done anything about it? The rainmaker must be lying. But he hasn't steered us in the wrong direction ever before. A migraine consumed his head as thoughts bounced throughout it. He massaged his sinuses and squinted. "Rainmaker, you have not let us down before, and your word has been trusted before. If Karana truly is the cause of this snowstorm, then we must use all of our might to defeat him. Scribe!"

A lowly scribe entered the room. "Yes, sire?"

"I am going to dictate a bulletin to you. When I am done, give this to the crier."

"Yes, sire."

* * *

"People of Kithcor! A plague has consumed our land! It has driven us into hiding, stopped our progress of trials, and killed many of our ranks! Both you and I know that the perpetrator of these acts must face his crimes against the Tribunal! No matter how big, or how small the criminal may be, he must be captured and tried! Black Wizards of Law! We know who has caused this storm! This devilry! This menace! He plans to snuff out of existence in a fury of storms! He is Karana, god of storms! He has seen our great power and has grown jealous! He wants our power and plans to take it by any means necessary! We must stop him before he stops us! Judges! Bailiffs! Attorneys! Be ready for the fight for our existence! 


	8. Long and Winding

Freedrick shimmed out of the small hole. He stretched, overjoyed that he was finally able to fully move. He peered down in the hole and saw Faerune crawling toward the exit. He pulled himself out and coughed out some flem; there was dust everywhere in the small opening. Faerune grumbled under his breath, "If I ever have to do something like this again…" His voice trailed off, not fully finishing his false threat. He wiped his eyes with his shirt and gazed at his surrounding.

They appeared at the surface of Luclin, in the forest known as Shadeweaver's Thicket. Enormous sequoias towered in front of them, making the two feel even smaller then they actually were. Even the leaves were massive; each one was about as wide and as tall as Freedrick. A small dirt path cut through the mess of vines, thorns, and bushes. Faerune looked over at Freedrick. The little hobbit looked satisfied at his ability to find their way out. A small grin appeared on his round face. "I told ya this be da fastest wey. Da normal exit be 'bout four miles down that a-ways." He peered down the small trail. "This little path we got right 'ere will lead us straight to Shar Vahl, if that where ya be headin'."

Faerune looked confused. He had never traveled to Luclin before, nor ever even heard of this 'Shar Vahl' Freedrick mentioned. "Shar Vahl? And what might Shar Vahl be?"

Freedrick eyed Faerune, hoping he was being sarcastic. "Ah, ya dun't know what Shar Vahl is? Whair 'ave ya been man, hiding under a rock?" He waited impatiently for Faerune to confess his sarcasm, but it never came. "It'd be whair all da Vah Shir be livin'…ya know, da cat-people?" He kept his eye on Faerune. "Aye! Will ya say somethin' already?"

"Lets just go there, hopefully my name hasn't traveled up here." He was about to make stride for the path, when he looked at himself, then toward Freedrick. "Oh, and by the way, how am I supposed to get un-shrunk?"

"How am I supposed ta know?" He readjusted himself then skipped down the dirt road. Faerune angrily shook his fist at the little halfling. He quickly hid his anger as Freedrick looked back at him. "C'mon, Mr. Faerune! You'll get a lost without me!"

They walked through the valley of green, constantly twisting and turning as the path took new directions. Freedrick hummed softly to himself, then began to sing ahca-pella.

"The long and winding road, that leads to your door, will never disappear. I've seen that road before, it always leads me here. Lead me to your door. The wild and windy night, that the rain washed away, has left a pool of tears, crying for the day. Why leave me standing here? Let me know the way. Many times I've been alone, and many times I've cried. Anyway you'll never know, the many ways I've tried, and still they lead me back, to the long and winding road. You left me standing here, a long, long time ago. Don't leave me waiting here, lead me to you door. But still they lead me back, to the long and winding road. You left me standing here, a long, long time ago. Don't keep me waiting here. Lead me to your door!"

* * *

Marekk sat at his desk. The prevailing winds behind him continued to howl throughout the night. He had heard the uproar and shouts from below as the crier read the proclamation. Tyrannicus was sitting on a small couch, snoring heavily. Marekk was perplexed how he could sleep with this wind billowing behind him. Even with the freezing temperature outside, the tower was a warm seventy degrees. Marekk chuckled to himself. He felt glad that he decided to have a set of lower-class radiation wizards take shifts heating the minaret.

The rainmaker walked in through the door. Marekk jumped to his feet and called out, "Guards! Seize this man! I do not have time for more of his ill omens!"

The guards were about to pull him back through the door when the rainmaker spoke. "I am not here to delivery more bad news. In fact, I'm here to deliver excellent news!"

Marekk impatiently tapped his foot on the ground. Tyrannicus was just waking up; he mumbled to himself on the couch and let out a big yawn. "Well then, tell us before I lose my patience."

"After I came to my conclusion about Karana dooming us to eternal cold, I decided to study where he might live, in case you did as you said and set out to defeat this god of storms. Karana lives in the Plane of Storms, a realm not unlike Norrath. So far, no one has been able to breach the crossroads of the other dimensions, known as the Plane of Knowledge. Well. no one has done it and lived to tell about it. All except one man."

Tyrannicus was now fully awake and intently listening to the conversation. "Well, tell us, who is this man?"

The rainmaker glanced at Tyrannicus, but kept most of his attention still on Marekk. "He is a lowly wizard of Erud. He was never good at any particular school of magic. He actually failed out of the school of Enchantrasism. No one knows his true name, but he often calls himself the 'magic warrior.'"

"Do you know where this 'magic warrior' is now?" Marekk asked, slowly feeling more pleased that he allowed the rainmaker to speak.

The rainmaker hesitated, then finally fessed up. "As a matter of fact…I do not have any clue." The rainmaker lowered his head in shame.

Marekk's calm expression quickly changed to one of outrage and disgust. "You don't know? You tell me all this and you don't even know where this man, the one key to maybe the fate of the Black Wizards, is?" He picked up his scepter charged the rainmaker.

Tyrannicus could only watch as Marekk beat the rainmaker. The pounding of the scepter almost deafened any noise inside or outside the tower. Tyrannicus looked into Marekk's eyes. They were filled with rage: not against the rainmaker alone, but against his position, his power, his authority; everything he used to want, he now hates. The rainmaker was just the newest 'whipping boy.' Blood spattered on the floor as Marekk pounded on the rainmaker's skull again, and again, and again. Scarlet red encompassed his scepter, his cloak, his hands, his face. The rainmaker lied on the floor unmoving as Marekk wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Guards, dispose of him secretly. I don't want anyone…anyone," he reiterated, "to know about this."

The guards shuffled in and picked up the rainmaker's body. They walked to the west wall of Marekk's office. One of the men who had a free hand pressed a slightly discolored brick into the wall. The room rumbled as a section of the wall lifted, and a small room appear. More bodies were placed against the walls, some still with bits and pieces of flesh hanging from their brittle bones.

Tyrannicus just sighed, shook his head, and went back to sleep.

* * *

Crassus walked along the rocky cliff near Lake Recondite. He could see many fish swimming back and forth, waiting for one of the travelers to lose their step and fall into their hands. He held Tilkin closer to him, being more careful about where his blind son put his feet. Abraham wasn't worried, though. He just kept his yellow scimitar in the view of the fish, showing he wasn't afraid to kill them all if he had to. Magus was following closely behind the party, studying the landscape around him.

Tilkin spoke softly to his father, "Pa, how much longer? This stench is getting to me." He used a free hand to plug his nose. The other rested on Crassus' shoulder.

"Soon, son. Soon." He peered into the black fog and shouted ahead to Abraham. "Abram, how much longer until we reach the surface?"

Abraham glanced behind him to make sure everyone was still there. He had been picking up the pace ever since he felt the slow incline become a little more diagonal. He motioned for the rest of the group to stop. He fixed Yelltar at his right and crept forward.

A scuffle of movement caught his eye. He could only pick out their frame through the haze: they were large, humanoid in shape; a small, thin tail flicked in the air. He heard a purr then more of the same figures appear in the fog.

Abraham yelled back, "Magus, shine some light on the subject!"

"As you command." Magus shuffled ahead and stood beside Abraham. He quietly murmured a spell. He pulled his hand quickly into his robe and lifted it high into the air. Moments later, a large flash of light illuminated the area.

The fog dissipated within seconds, revealing the figures in the haze. They were Vah Shir, cat-people descendents of the Kerrans. They cowered at the flash, shielding their eyes from the sudden influx of light. One of them hissed out words, "Ah, Erudite scum! We left Erud because of you and now your trying to drive us out of Luclin as well!" The cat reached for his dagger and threw it at Magus. The wizard pulled his hand into his robe and extended it at the pursuing object. The dagger stopped in mid-air and dropped to the floor. He mumbled another spell, and all of the Vah Shir's metal weapons were magnetized to Magus's outstretched arm.

Unprotected and caught off guard, the cat-men scattered. Abraham tried to pursue one of the Vah Shir who hadn't reacted as fast as the others, but the cat-man easily outran him. Abraham staggered back to the group, heaving in deep breaths. "Who were those…big-cat-things?"

Crassus and Tilkin had just run up after seeing one of the Vah Shir run by, making sure everyone was all right. Magus calmly replied, "Those, things, are Kerrans. They have tried to restart their society on Luclin, even calling themselves civilized, but they will always be savages in my eyes." He stared at his feet and ran his hands through whatever hair he had left. He looked up to see everyone staring at him. "Well, lets not dawdle, the exits right ahead." He spun around and walked in large strides, almost trying to run away from his emotional outburst.

* * *

Edwin entered the cavern followed by the barbarian Deedra. He huffed at the stench in the air and turned toward his companion in disgust. "Do we have to walk through here? It smells like rotting flesh." He waved his hand in front of his nose, pushing the pungent odor away from his face.

Deedra surveyed the grounds ahead. Many men and women were strewn about the cavern walls; blood smeared nearby as their corpses dragged against the stonewalls. She smiled at the carnage. Her barbarian blood could literally feel the destruction around them. "This has to b-b-b-be Abraham's work. If he was able to t-t-t-take down Harlk, he must have done this." She began to pursue the trail of bodies; she was almost certain it would lead to her criminal.

Edwin scurried behind her. "Deedra, wait up!" He tried to keep up with the barbarian, but her strides were much larger than his could ever be in his robe. Blood was seeping into his robe's fabric, causing the fray to turn crimson.

Deedra exited to small hallway and gazed at the camp. Not a single person was left standing. Men, women, children, they were all killed. Most had blank stares; she noticed only two were left with a look of horror. What kind of monster is this Abraham? She thought, Able to kill so freely without his victims even giving him the satisfaction of fear. I must meet this man! She motioned for Edwin to hurry up. Sometimes she got impatient with the little human. But it was her duty to protect him, and a barbarian would cause shame to his or her family if they failed a task they had promised to keep. Many barbarians would rather die then fail in the duty.

Edwin looked intently at the water. The beauty of it was not what sparked his attention. There seemed to be a current running through it. "Deedra!" he shouted, "I think I know a way to get out of this hellhole much faster!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small copper coin. He flicked it in the air and molded it into a platform. It was much thinner than last time since he had to spread out the metal more to compensate for the extra rider. He stepped onto the circle and helped Deedra on as well. In an instant, the two were speeding just above the water, creating a large wake billowing from both sides.

* * *

Marekk was still in his office, pacing nervously back and forth. "How many men do you think we will need to even stand a fighting chance?" he asked Tyrannicus.

"Are you thinking that you might have spoke too soon about killing this god, Marekk?" Tyrannicus was twirling his large bastard sword as if it were a small wand. Marekk glanced over at him. Tyrannicus gave a smile. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small case. He opened it slowly, revealing four rich cigars. He placed one of them in his mouth then stared at Marekk. "Could you spare a light, please, Supreme Justice Marekk?"

"You don't have to flatter me." He snapped his finger and a small flame ignited on the tip of the cigar. Tyrannicus puffed the smoke lightly and took the cigar out with his left hand's pointer and middle fingers. Marekk continued, "and no, I'm not backing out of my decision. Even if I wanted to, it's too late now." A knock came at the door. "Come in."

A small man entered the door and politely bowed. "Sir, I have received the numbers from the field. There are fifty-four bailiffs in the field, along with thirty-three attorneys."

"The judges man, what about the judges? How many, and what are their names? I want to have each and every one of them back here by sunrise," Marekk looked out the winding at the blizzard, "…well by normal sunrise any place but here."

The man straightened up. "Yes, sir. There are a total of sixteen judges in the field right now. They go as follows: Theodora, in Emerald Jungle, Besli, in Butcherblock Mountains, T'lane, just outside in Misty Thicket, Idplious, currently one board a ship in Erud's Crossing, Lans, whereabouts unknown, Sofirr, in East Karana, Micalangelo, in the Temple of Veeshan, Eany, in the Mountains of Rathe, D'mean, currently in a tournament in the Arena, N'catta, our informant in Shar Vahl, Nquyen, in the Grey, Ickabod, doing reconnaissance in the Swamp of No Hope, Ly'gee, in the Umbral Plains, Oasious, in…the Oasis of Marr, Tratin, in Shadeweaver's Thicket, Yinniy, in the Nexus, and Edwin, last heard from in Shadowhaven. We have already sent our tracking force to retrieve them and bring them here."

"Thank you," Marekk replied after taking the list of names out of the man's hands.

"The honor is mine, sir." The man exited the room, closing the doors on the way out.

"You'll never defeat Karana with a force like that," Tyrannicus announced mockingly. He placed his bastard sword in its sheath and reclined on the couch.

"And how would you know that?" Marekk was about to reach for his scepter when Tyrannicus gave a scolding glance at him.

"Karana is one of the main gods of the barbarian people. What seems like a deadly ill omen to you is really just a calm wind in a barbarians eyes. Halas has been hit constantly by storms three times the size of this. In a humans eyes, one might see a storm like that and say, 'Why is the god of storms incurring his wrath upon us?' I think of it as a test to his loyalty. You can go ahead and lead this war against the gods, but don't say I didn't warn you."


	9. Memories of the Past

Faerune stared into the night sky. Stars were twinkling in the black, Norrath stood ominously close. He could make out the continent of Antonica, along with the western half of Faydwer. It seemed like only yesterday when he was thrown out of Freeport. That Abraham! he thought. He banishes me from Freeport then expects me to forgive and forget? He was completely unaware that Freedrick had stopped. Faerune almost stepped right on top of him.

"Whoa, there! Ya dun wanna me to be smooshed now, do ya? Freedrick pronounced. "We set camp 'ere for tonite."

Faerune examined himself. Wow, he pondered, looks like the potion wore off. Faerune pulled out Avenger and made a large circle around himself. He then reached into Freedrick's backpack and retrieved a long rope. He wove the robe into the small trenches made by his sword. He kicked away all the dry leaves and twigs and brushed off the dust in the circle. Freedrick came skipping back with armfuls of firewood. He placed the logs in the middle of the circle, making sort of a teepee shape. Faerune reached for some flint he had in his pocket, when Freedrick stopped him. The hobbit pulled out a small horn and played a fiery tune. Almost immediately, the logs ignited and a roaring fire was amongst them. Freedrick pulled out two wolf hide bundles and unrolled them on the ground. The bags were sown shut on all but one side, where someone could slide into it. Freedrick sat on his and asked, "Mr. Faerune, how did ya come to Luclin? Not a many people come 'ere withoot some sorta reason."

Faerune first looked at the halfling reluctantly, but the hobbit had been good to him so far. "Well, I could read you my journal." Faerune began to fumble through his pockets. "I started writing in it after my first day of travel." He re-looked in each of his pockets, but couldn't find the book. "I wonder were I put it…ah, no matter, I can tell it to you without the journal."

Freedrick listened intently as Faerune recited his life story. The flame crackled in the cool night air; small flecks of soot flew into the air like fireflies as Freedrick nudged the fire with a stick. He listened as Faerune told him of the Temple of Marr, his exile, the war against the good elves; his time in slavery; and the dream of Trakanon. Faerune sighed, "Where did that stupid book go?" He looked into his right pants pocket and saw four small pieces of paper. They looked as if they had been ripped off of something. He grabbed the papers and studied what was written on them. "Oh, here's a bit of it."

* * *

"I followed my captor…_into the forest. It seemed as though we were heading west. He kept on telling me that there was something I needed to see before we went for the ruins of the Combine. We had been traveling at this brisk pace for almost five hours now, and it showed no sign of stopping soon._

_We came into a clearing in the woods. A small pool was positioned in the middle of the opening. A large, jagged rock was teetering over the pool, making a reflection that looked like a large mouth. Fish darted back and forth in the water, creating small ripples at the surface. My captor stood beside it. He spoke softly, in a calm voice, "Come, Faerune, look at yourself in this pond. It is a revealer of souls, a revealer of destinies."_

_I looked at my captor. He had obviously gone off the deep end sometime in his life, but he had the upper hand, so I obeyed. I knelt next to the pond and looked into its crystalline waters. I saw myself, same as always. I looked quizzically at my captor. He motioned me to look again. I again obeyed and saw myself in a new light. My face was different. Skin was dangling from my jaws; black puss oozing from my ears. My eyes were bloodshot; my hair was thinning._

_I reached to the pond to touch my new face. My hand slowly submerged into the water, then I pulled it out. The reflection changed once more. I saw myself standing before a black throne. Decay and disease consumed everything around me. I was holding Avenger in front of me. It was burning as bright, if not brighter than it had in my dream. A large zombie shaped figure stood before, laughing as dead flesh dripped off his body. Then the same scene was replayed, except it wasn't me holding the sword…_It was someone else."

He looked up and saw Freedrick sleeping soundly; his chest rose and dropped as he breathed heavily. Faerune smiled, placed the papers back in his pocket, and snuggled himself under the wolf sleeping bag. He closed his eyes; a pair of red eyes opened up beside the camp.

* * *

Abraham exited to caverns, finding himself beneath a canopy of trees. A well-made path lay before him; a wooden sign with the words "Shar Vahl" pointed down the path. The rest of the party emerged from the caves. Tilkin felt a leaf brush against his skin as it floated down to the earthy floor. "Where are we now, Pa?"

"I think it is the Shadeweaver's Thicket. We'll be heading to Shar Vahl to ask for any information once dawn breaks." Crassus pulled out a large tarp from his backpack. He reached into another pocket on the pack and retrieved some string. He found two suitable trees nearby, not too far off the road. He jumped up to get the string around a low branch, but every time fell just inches short. He backed up, ran as fast as he could, and leapt into the air. He underestimated his leg strength and was sent hurling toward the redwood. He closed his eyes and braced for impact, but it never came. He heard a faint crackle, as if made by breaking glass. He opened his eyes to find himself centimeters away from the bark. He looked at his feet. Why am I floating? He thought. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Magus holding his left arm out in his direction. Crassus chuckled, "Always good to have a wizard around." He flipped the string over the branch, then walked to the other tree and strung it up similarly. He hovered back to the path and picked up the tarp, brought it to the trees, and threw it over the string, creating a small triangular tent. "Come, Tilkin. The tent is up." He grabbed hold of his son's jacket and led him to the tent.

Magus let out a large yawn. "Well, time to hit the hay." He chanted a small spell and was covered by a dark cloak, camouflaging him in the brush.

Abraham stood guard. He propped himself against a tree and tipped his hat over his eyes. He thought back to how everything started. His mind raced back to the day he exiled Faerune…

* * *

_It was an unusually hot day. I had just put on my armor in anticipation of my crowning. Too bad I had to obtain it in such an unworthy manner. But soon I would be leader of two households: the Paladins of Marr, and the Freeport Militia…_

_I went out to the gate to officially exile Faerune. I feel sorry for him. He just joined the ranks and now has to take the blame because of my father's greed. But Sir Lucan has him captive, and if I don't look convincing, they'll kill him. I guess I have to choose the lesser of two evils…_

_He gave me an awkward glance; he seemed to have a holy fire of redemption in his eyes. Oh, Marr, I hope this isn't an ill omen. You'll understand that I had to do this to save your most loyal servant…_

_Lucan summoned me to his cambers. Did I do something wrong? Is Father all right? I hope nothing has happened to him…_

_Lucan told me that I was unworthy of being the lord of the Paladins of Marr. He withheld my induction and claimed himself as the right heir. What's worse is he killed Father! Why did you do this to me, Marr? What did I do to incur your wrath?…_

_Lucan turned the tables on me even more. He now revealed that I was responsible for the destruction of the Temple. I tried to explain that it was to save Father, but the council would here none of it…_

_I have been sentenced to death by guillotine. They are holding me in a cell underground until my execution the next day…_

_Looks like my reputation can pay off. Seems that a group of shadowknights raided the prison and released me from my cell. I have to find Faerune. I have to tell him why I have done all this…_

_I've been searching for days in the desert of Ro but there has been no sign of him. I could have looked harder, but people are looking for me as well…_

_I asked some of the barbarian fishermen if they had seen anybody through here. They said they saw him go through the tunnel in the mountains. He must be heading for High Pass Hold…_

_I have just arrived in High Pass. Only an old crow knew of a suspicious man running away about a week ago. I paid here for her trouble…_

_I have heard that he has been using the last name of Silvanis. That clever man, he must be trying to get to Faydwer…_

_Freeport is inaccessible right now. Sir Lucan has stopped travel in and out of the city due to the recent emergence of a small group of zealots known as the Black Wizards. They have been preying on the people of Freeport and have sent a proclamation to Sir Lucan himself to rebuke his crime or be killed. I'll have to find a different route…_

_I'm in luck! A barbarian woman said that a large fleet had set sail from the Oasis toward Kunark. They were lead by an imposing human, shouting orders in an extremely harsh tone. If only I could get to Kunark…_

_A gnomish pirate agreed to transport me to Kunark, but he said that he'd drop me off in the Field of Bone…_

_I made it to the Overthere just in time to see the last few slaves dragged away into the area around the Lake of Ill Omen…_

_A large uprising was stomped down by the Iksar. I hope Faerune wasn't killed in the slaughter…_

_I came across a peculiar pond today. It was clear and cool, but it seemed to reflect an aspect of your life. When I looked at my reflection, I saw not a warrior, but a mender of wounds. After that, it showed me in the middle of a plethora of monsters, all oozing with disease. I was protecting two gnomes who seemed unworthy of gracing any battlefield…_

_Thank you, Marr! I learned that Faerune is still alive and leading an army into battle against the Sarnak at Ill Omen. Maybe I can catch up to him during battle…_

_I saved Faerune today from certain death. His Iksar companions were not as lucky; the Sarnak overwhelmed them. There was nothing I could do…_

_He woke up today. Thank goodness he didn't recognize me. Man, my hand is bleeding profusely. Had to lay on hands…my hands…_

_Faerune was talking during his sleep. He kept mumbling the words "Trakanon" under his breath. I had to wake him up when he started screaming. I told him we were going to the Dreadlands soon…_

_I made a detour to that pond. Faerune seemed reluctant to look in, but I could see he was glad he did afterward…_

_We stayed in a small cave that night. He seemed fixated on the words he wrote on the wall: Doom, prophecy, fire, and a riddle that I can't even read…_

_Damn him! He figured me out and now he won't even look at me. I tried to explain but he just ignored me just like all the others! Now, I'm afraid to sleep. He might kill me the first chance he gets…_

_He fought again today at the ruins of the Combine. He kept on rambling on about some prophecy and that me being here only hampered his progress…_progress for what? What is he trying to do?

* * *

Deedra was gripping Edwin's cloak as they sped through the canyon. The walls were a blur; nothing stood out in her mind. She peered ahead and saw a blur of a person. "St-t-t-top!"

Edwin jumped from the sudden scream from behind him. He let the magic controlling the saucer loosen until it finally came to a halt. Deedra leapt off the platform, as it was still moving, jarring the dust beneath her from its dormant state. She drew her sword and shouted at the thing on the trail "Halt! In the name of the Black Wizards!"

The hooded figure glanced behind itself, catching a view of its follower. It reached into its cover and retrieved a small group of marble-shaped contraptions. It spiked the balls on the ground, then dashed away.

Edwin lunged his hand for the escapee and grabbed it with his magic. He lifted it in the air and silenced its curses.

Deedra was about to make chase when the ground began to tremble. Out of the earth where the thing threw the contraptions sprouted several vines littered with thorns in groups of four. In the middle of these groups stood a small bushel of leaves. The leaves opened revealing shoots of powder. They sprayed Deedra with full force, knocking her off her feet. The spores clung to her armor, eating it away as if it was paper.

Deedra screamed in pain. "Deedra!" Edwin shouted. The thing spoke in a dark, decaying voice, "If you wish to see her alive, you had better start helping her quick!" Edwin released the beast and rushed forward to Deedra. He quickly thumbed through his book of spells, looking for some sort of dispel magic. He found cure disease. It was weak but he was losing time every second. Deedra was now naked and fully exposed. The spores were eating at her skin. Edwin shouted "Be-gone, evil plague! Go back to the dead where you belong!" Mana sprung from Edwin's fingertips as the spores released their grip on Deedra. A faint scream of pain was heard as each one of the spores burst at its seams.

Deedra moaned in pain. The spores had taken off the first few layers of her epidermis, leaving most of her exposed nerves and membranes out in the atmosphere. Edwin summoned a stack of bandages and insanely draped Deedra in them. "Please, please wake up. Don't let her die, council. Please don't let her die!" His voice echoed throughout the caverns.

She opened her eyes. They seemed different, almost greener than the brown they used to be. It did not matter to Edwin. She was alive and well. She staggered to her feet, disoriented and dizzy. When she finally came to her sense, she turned to thank Edwin. He speech somehow seemed different. "Th-th-th-thank you, Edwin. If you hadn't-t-t-t done something, I pra-pra-pra-probably would be d-d-d-dead!"

"Well, I'm glad your O.K. Lets get moving, shall we? I can't stand the sight and smell of this damned-able lake." Edwin spun around and began to tread forward.

A devilish smile ripped across Deedra's face. "You'll be s-s-s-seeing this lake for a long t-t-t-time, Edwin!" She drew her kukri and rushed toward Edwin. In one flowing motion, she placed the blade on his neck and sliced it across his throat. Blood spewed from the new hole in his neck, covering her blade.

Edwin's body fell limply to the floor. His cold hands gripped his blood-covered robe. Deedra kicked Edwin swiftly in the gut, sending his body hurtling toward the blue. He landed with a magnificent splash, creating large wake on all sides of him. His body sunk, bubbles emerging from his slit throat. His arm floated to the top while every other part sank. The fish nearby converged on the corpse, ripping it to shreds.

Deedra laughed to herself. She turned and trotted down the beaten path. With every step, her bandages transformed into threads of deep black metal. In her tread, maggots, roaches, all sorts of vermin spontaneously appeared, scurrying away seconds later.

* * *

Marekk's office was full of men. All the judges that could make it had arrived and were awaiting orders from the Supreme Justice.

The blizzard was continuing its never-ending wail just outside the minaret. No city stood around its base. Besli yammered out his complaints, "Why in the hell has Marekk summoned us here? I was having an wonderful time chasing after those bastard villains!" A murmur of approval motioned throughout the crowd.

Sofirr added his comment. "And another thing, what foolish person picked Marekk as our leader? He will lead us into death if the rumors are true!" More commotion rippled through the crowd.

Theodora spoke up in defense. "Are you suggesting a mutiny, Sofirr? I'm sure glad no one is taking real seriousness in your threats! Judges! Marekk has not led us in the wrong path before! Trusting him means to trust the Council!"

Idplious stood up from the back. "Be quiet you arse-kisser! Death to Theodora! Death to Marekk! Come on m…"

A swift jab was delivered to Idplious' head. The crack of his skull echoed throughout the tower. Blood seeped through the abrasion, cascading down into his eyes. It didn't sting; he was already dead.

Tyrannicus shook his hand, temporarily relieving the pain from the hit. "Marekk is on his way. Now, if anyone else has any comments on the Supreme Justice's decision, he or she can answer to me." Tyrannicus lightly strummed the hilt of his sword. The room became completely quiet.

Marekk swung the wooden doors open. They crashed against the wall, embedding splinters in the brick. The crowd of judges backed away, creating a small walkway for Marekk. He swiftly walked through them and reached his chair. Upon sitting down, he motioned for the rest of the people to find a place to sit as well. No one whispered a word as they found their seating. Tyrannicus found his seat on the right side of Marekk; on the left side was the town crier.

The Supreme Justice cleared his throat, preparing for a long explanation. In his hand, he clasped a solid gold gavel. "I thank you all for coming here. I will start off by having the crier read out the minutes of the last meeting." A wave of disapproval washed throughout the congregation. Marekk thumped the gavel against its solid gold counterpart, "Order in my office! It is tradition passed down by our forbearers! We must honor their legacy!" He paused to catch his breath. "And besides, the Council demands that any meeting under their observation follow the same rules and regulations as they practice. Crier! Please read the minutes of our last meeting."

The crier swiftly stood straight and saluted the Supreme Justice. He picked up a long scroll and unraveled the entire roll of paper. "Yes, sire! The last meeting started with the minutes from the meeting before. That was then followed by roll call. The first motion for business was the recruitment of new members to the Black Wizards of Law. The next item up for business was the promoting of current members to their new levels of duty. That was followed by the debate over the current uprising of crimes on Norrath and Luclin. Next was the vote on whether to move our judges off of Luclin and place them move throughout Norrath. The motion failed with a vote of sixteen to one. That was followed by a motion to adjourn, which passed unanimously." The crier wrapped the portion with the words written on it and placed the scroll on the desk. "This concludes the reading of the minutes. I will now, at the Supreme Justice's approval, continue on with the roll call." The crier stood in full attention awaiting the Supreme Justice's answer. Even though he knew that it would be a 'yes,' the crier had to follow the rules.

Marekk nonchalantly gestured to continue. He placed his elbow on his desk and propped his head against it.

The crier saluted the Supreme Justice and carried out his duty. "I will now begin roll call. Theodora!"

"Here!"

"Besli!"

"Aye!"

"T'lane…T'lane! Idplious…Idplious! Lans…Lans!"

"Oh, sorry, here!"

"I ask that you all pay attention during roll call! Now where was I? Oh, Sofirr!"

"Here!"

"Micalangelo!"

"Right here!"

"Eany…Eany! D'mean…D'mean! Ok, N'catta!"

"Over here!"

"Nquyen!"

"Here!"

"Ickabod!"

"Aye!"

"Ly'gee!"

"Here!"

"Oasious!"

"Aye, of course I'm here! I'm the only one who makes it to every meeting!"

"Yinniy…Yinniy! And Edwin…Edwin! Ok, we have ten members here. Those who aren't accounted for are: T'lane, Idplious, Eany, D'mean, Yinniy and Edwin. I now give the floor to Supreme Justice Marekk. Three cheers for the Justice!" The crier overpowered the rest of the group, who were not truly cheering for Marekk. Theodora joined the crier in a standing ovation as Marekk got ready for his motion.

Marekk banged the gavel against the desk. "Order! The first time up for business is the plans on attack Karana!" He stood out of his chair, walked to the front of the desk. He reached back and retrieved a plethora of papers, all filled to the brim with tactics and information. The first poster in his presentation had the words 'Karana' written in bold, capital letters on the top. Under it was a rough sketch of the god of thunder might look like. He reached into his vest and pulled out a long pointer. He snapped it against the board. "Judges, this is our culprit. He has committed the vilest act I have seen in my long history as a judge. He has attacked our very way of life. He must be stopped before he can do any more damage to our organization." Marekk took the first poster down and replaced it with a large map. The word 'Nexus' was plastered on the top of the poster. "We will meet up with our bailiffs here," he snapped the pointer in the northeast corner of the map, "at the book to the nether planes. The Scions will not appreciate our presence in the Plane of Knowledge, but the Council demands our swift and brutal retaliation against any and all threats toward our cause. Once we enter the Plane of Knowledge, we must be swift in our search fro Karana. The gods have complete presence in there, and once a hostile mortal enters, their minions will hunt us down like dogs." Marekk stopped pacing and faced the audience. "Before I continue, does anyone have any questions?" Marekk scanned the crowd for hands raised, then motioned for Besli to speak.

Besli rose from the back of the crowd and shouted in a very disrespectful tone, "How in the Council's name will we be able to use that…book? I have know about these portals for my entire life and have not heard of anyone crossing the planes unscathed!"

"Excellent question, Besli," Marekk hastily replied. "I have received information about a man who was able to cross into the planes and return safely. Once we find him, we will use his knowledge to breach these portals and enter the Plane of Knowledge…yes, Sofirr."

"Do we know where this man is?" Sofirr mockingly asked.

Marekk grumbled at the question. His hand was inching closer to his scepter on the table. Tyrannicus slapped Marekk's hand and pulled the cudgel away. "As…of…right now, we…do not know…"

Chatter filled the room, neighbor talking to neighbor about Marekk's competence as the Supreme Justice. Nquyen stood up in the front of the room. "And when do you plan on finding him? After our society is destroyed and a mere memory?"

"We will find him soon enou…"

Nquyen defiantly cut Marekk off. "Soon isn't an option. My family is freezing to death at the bottom of the tower. Soon, they will be dead if we don't stop worrying about some damn ghost chase and start focusing on saving our people!" A cry of agreement erupted from the mob. "People, ever since Marekk became Supreme Justice, our numbers have dwindled to less than five hundred men. This 'society' is becoming a lost cause under his rule! If he won't worry about our people, then I say we throw him out in the cold! I say we show him all that his 'underlings' are suffering! What do you say, judges?" A roar of agreement shook the very foundation of the tower.

Marekk was backed into a corner. He panicky glanced left and right for a way out of this predicament. Tyrannicus, Theodora, and the crier jumped in front of Marekk. Tyrannicus barked at the mob with his booming voice, "Judges of the Black Wizards of Law! To overthrow the Supreme Justice is to destroy our way of life! We are five times better now than we ever were before! More and more people are paying for the crimes they have committed since Marekk became Supreme Justice! A revolution proves nothing! The only thing it will accomplish is more unnecessary bloodshed! Now take your seats, before I empty a few of them." Tyrannicus unsheathed his two-hander and ushered the crowd back in its seats.

Marekk nervously walked back to his seat. "I…have…a change of plans. Before we…attack the Plane of Storms, we will evacuate the tower."

The crier stood up next to the Supreme Justice. "But Supreme Justice, where will we go? No one will harbor us. We are murders in the criminal's eyes."

"We will plead for asylum." Marekk faced the floor in disgust at his decision. "After we defeat Karana, we will regain our homeland."

"But we will have to pay for our 'crimes.' They will hang us all!" the crier proclaimed.

"I will take full responsibility for the actions of the Black Wizards. You can all return as I am tried in their 'courts.'"

Tyrannicus looked in unison with the crier at the Supreme Justice. Why is he showing compassion after he was nearly overthrown?

"But Marekk!" the crier pleaded.

"Do not use my name, Bartholomew! We discussed this before!" Marekk snapped at the crier.

"I'm sorry, Supreme Justice." Bartholomew cowered into the corner.

Marekk stood back up in front of the crowd. "As I was saying…"


End file.
